


Maternity

by jamelia116



Series: "Quid Pro Quo"/"Satisfaction" [6]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Family Bonding, Fatherhood, Friendship/Love, Motherhood, Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 14:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/jamelia116
Summary: The sixth story in the "Quid Pro Quo/Satisfaction" series. Despondent after Mezoti leaves Voyager, Seven of Nine decides to change the nature of her affiliation with Harry Kim, even though she still thinks of marriage as "irrelevant." Seven longs for a child, but for a former Borg, motherhood is something that may never happen without the help of good friends like Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres.





	1. Night Terrors

**Author's Note:**

> The stories in this series are, in order, "Quid Pro Quo" (a Tuvok in pon farr story), "Satisfaction," "Weekend in Tahiti, or Tom and B'Elanna's and Harry and Seven's Excellent Vacation," "Fun and Games," "The Handmaiden of Dr. Chaotica," and "Maternity." 
> 
> For those who have not read the previous stories, the essential facts to know are that by the fifth year of the journey, Seven has enlisted in Starfleet as Ensign Annika Hansen, and Harry Kim has been promoted to Lieutenant, j.g.

=/\=

 

"Seven, where are you? I can't find you! Help me! Help me!"

 

Greenish mist swirled around her, partially obscuring the Borg cubicles and cybernetic instrumentation lining the passageways as she stumbled towards Mezoti's plaintive call. Her skin flushed in panic. Where was Mezoti? Was someone holding her captive on this ghostly vessel? She had to find her.

 

Two figures suddenly lurched out of the mist from a side passageway, invading Seven's path. She recognized them: Mazani and Arebi of the Wysanti. Yet something was not right. Their faces were strangely familiar, but incomplete. They didn't sound at all like they should.

 

Seconds after Seven recognized the voices, the Wysanti faces melted away, rearranged into those of two others: Icheb's Brunali parents. "Go away, Seven of Nine! Borg bitch! You'll never find her! Do not interfere! You've stolen our son! Now we will use _her_ to save our world. GO AWAY!!!"

 

From someplace deep within, Seven moaned, struggling to cry out, to strike out at Yifay and Leucon and stop their venomous rantings, but words would not come. Her arms would not obey her. Her strength was failing. She was powerless to save Mezoti. Her voice still echoed in Seven's ears, but every nanosecond, her calls became fainter, as if the girl was receding farther and farther away; yet Seven still could not answer.

 

Then the girl's cries shifted in timbre and resonance. A full-grown, adult drone's voice, well-loved, not frightening, but bringing indescribable pain, echoing in her ears as if he were somewhere even more distant than Mezoti. As if from some faraway place. Like a nebula. The nebula where he'd died, though he had been only days old. "Seven, please help her. Save her, even if you could not save me."

 

In torment, Seven mumbled, "Do you know where she is? Help me find her. She needs me."

 

The drone's words became fainter, too, though Seven could still hear him clearly. "Those people do not treat her as she deserves. You should never have left her. Go to her."

 

Finally, she could feel her throat reverberate. Her voice came back. With increasing desperation, Seven called out, "Mezoti! Where are you, Mezoti? I'm coming. Coming to find you . . . find you . . . "

 

"Seven, are you all right? Is it your cortical node again?"

 

Seven gasped and opened her eyes. There he was. A Borg-like face, but not the other one. Not One. Icheb stood there, looking sternly at her. No, not a stern face. A worried face. Above the implant along his nose, his brow wrinkled with concern.

 

Beyond Icheb's head, the familiar environment of their cargo bay appeared. She still stood rigidly in her cubicle, but her regeneration cycle had been terminated prematurely. The device told her so. There was no green mist, no Borg vessel passageways. No Yifay and Leucon, threatening them. Mezoti's voice was gone. Mezoti was gone. So was One.

 

Shaking her head slightly to banish her momentary disorientation as visions shattered into reality, Seven stepped out of her cubicle, saying, "I am well, Icheb. Nothing is amiss. I experienced a dream while I was regenerating. Lieutenant Kim would deem it a 'nightmare.' "

 

"You are sure your cortical node is still working properly?" From Icheb's frown, she knew he was deeply concerned, as well he might be.

 

"It is. I feel none of the symptoms I experienced previously. It was . . . just a dream. A bad dream. Return to your cubicle. You must complete your own regeneration cycle."

 

"You are certain? I can call the Doctor to attend you."

 

"It is nothing. I am sorry to have awakened you, Icheb. Please, finish regenerating."

 

"I could communicate your distress with Lieutenant Kim, if you prefer."

 

She paused for a moment. She _would_ prefer to see Harry rather than the Doctor, but then she remembered. "No, he has command of the bridge tonight. Do not disturb him, or the Doctor. I will be . . . fine."

 

Icheb gazed at her intently. She did not doubt he was still considering the advisability of communicating his concerns to Harry or the Doctor, despite her attempts to reassure him. After all the two former Borg had been through during the past few weeks, she could hardly blame him if he did choose to contact the EMH.  

 

Icheb gazed intently at Seven for another 15.37 seconds before nodding slightly to her. Stepping up into his cubicle, Icheb closed his eyes as his regeneration unit lights shone again with renewed power as the cycle reinitiated.

 

The green light from Icheb's unit was somewhat disturbing, considering the nightmare she had just experienced. The former Seven of Nine, Tertiary Annex of Unimatrix One of the Borg, but before that, Annika Hansen, daughter of Magnus and Erin Hansen, and now Ensign Annika Hansen to the crew when she was on duty, stepped out of her regeneration cubicle.  Just two of the regeneration cubicles in Cargo Bay Two pulsed with the green glow associated with the Borg, although only the one Seven had stepped out of was crackling with energy discharges to show it was operating at full power. The one occupied by Icheb glowed, but only dimly.  The other cubicles had been disconnected to save energy. No one else needed to use them. Azan and Rebi had left the ship to live with their grandparents on the Wysanti home world. Mezoti had gone with them.

 

Since he had donated his cortical node to Seven to save her life and had survived without it, the Doctor could not say for sure that Icheb required regeneration at all any more. Icheb remained in Cargo Bay Two with her by his own choice, more out of habit than need. He said he preferred sleeping while standing in his cubicle, with a minimal amount of power coursing through what remained of the Borg circuitry within his body. The energy seemed to be helping him recover from the surgery he had inflicted upon himself to save Seven. The Doctor deemed it only prudent for him to continue utilizing his cubicle, at least, for the foreseeable future.

 

Seven gazed intently at Icheb for several minutes, monitoring his life signs, observing his pallor. Icheb was making remarkable progress, as the Doctor had said, but Seven felt he still needed close supervision. His body had not yet completely healed from the trauma of his sacrifice. She owed it to him to make sure it did. Icheb was precious to her. She would protect him with her own life, as a mother would.

 

Seven found herself reluctant to return to her own cubicle to finish her own regeneration cycle. This was not the first time she had come to consciousness with this particular set of images overwhelming her, engendering emotions she did not wish to identify or even admit to anyone else. Over the past few weeks, the dream, or perhaps as she said to Icheb, the nightmare, recurred every few nights. Whenever it did, Seven could not calm herself down immediately to resume her cycle. Perhaps this was due to her own recent trauma, her need to adjust to the replacement cortical node Icheb had donated to her.

 

Evaluating a situation calmly and methodically, connecting to her Borg roots, usually brought a measure of calm to Seven. Abandoning her attempt to regenerate for the moment, Seven stepped down from the cubicle platform. As she leaned upon the computer terminal, she consciously slowed down her breathing, closing her eyes to allow herself to consider the last few frustrating, worrisome, and ultimately, wonderful months of surrogate parenthood. Usually, this exercise in contemplating her existence helped her to recover her Borg equanimity. She stood like this for more than thirty of the ship's minutes before giving up. Tonight it was not going to work.

 

She could go to Sickbay and speak with the Doctor, of course, as Icheb had suggested. However, she was certain her symptoms were not medical in nature, not this time. The Doctor was one of her closest friends on board _Voyager_ , but his questions could be intrusive and a little too personal much of the time. Somehow, the subject of her sexual habits came up a bit too often for comfort. She needed another's presence tonight, and while Icheb was the closest thing to a son that she had, Seven had no desire to burden him with the details of this particular dream. For all she knew, he might suffer from nightmares very much like hers. He never had confided such a thing to her, but when she considered what Yifay and Leucon had done to him, she would not be surprised if his visions might be even more terrifying than hers.

 

She checked the time. In two hours, thirty-six minutes, she could confide in one who would be happy to listen to her dreams and help her interpret them (although, in truth, she was quite sure she already knew their meaning). And if necessary, he would gladly provide the warmth and comfort of his body as well.

 

At 0701, after consulting with ship's systems to confirm that Commander Chakotay now had command of the bridge, Seven contacted Lieutenant Kim and asked him if they could meet in the mess hall or his quarters for breakfast. She was sure of his answer. Harry was always willing to help.

 

=/\=

 

"Are you very tired, Harry?"

 

"Oh, not so much." He spoke the lie easily, knowing he probably looked a bit like death warmed over at the moment. He'd taken command of the bridge for Gamma shift after a shift and a half at Ops, with only a brief nap after dinner to refresh himself before going back to the bridge. Still, when Seven contacted him, he knew he had to see her. She could not completely hide the subtle shaking of her voice, telling him more than she would wish him to know about her state of mind. Despite her denials, she had not yet recovered fully from her recent brush with mortality.

 

Peering into her blue eyes, he quietly asked, "Is this something you should talk over with the Doc, or can I help?"

 

She glanced quickly away, grimacing slightly before meeting his gaze steadily and answering, "I have already spoken with the Doctor this morning. He arranged for me to start my shift in Astrometrics  at 1000 to give me time to speak with you. I convinced him that only you can help me this time, Harry Kim." Sighing, she settled her elbows on Harry's dining table and began to tell him of her night terror visions.

 

"This dream was actually more benign than most. So many have been terrifying, like those I experienced shortly after coming on board _Voyager_."

 

"You mean the flashbacks about _The Raven_?"

 

She nodded. "Yes. The ones about my last day as a totally human individual and the daughter of parents."

 

Harry knew the story well. When the Borg captured the Hansen family, both of her parents were immediately turned into drones. Little Annika, still screaming for her parents to help her, had been shoved into a maturation chamber, growing for several years into the adult drone, Seven of Nine. "You recall what happened then. Those visions had been very disjointed. Fragments of real memories were interspersed with symbolic images. Then, I had not realized the bird flying down the ship's corridor to attack me had been of the species Coridaie -- a raven -- a metaphor for the name of my parents' ship, _The Raven_."

 

"I remember I was glad you'd taught me how to read Borg alphanumerics, because I was able to pour over your logs and help the captain realize where she could find you." Harry touched her totally biological hand and gently stroked her fingers, urging her to continue.

 

After a quick squeeze in response, she said, "The captain told me after I returned that you were dismayed to see how often I stated how 'predictable' you were. She told you, coming from me, it was probably a compliment. And it was, you know."

 

"Glad to hear it," he replied, smiling briefly.

 

She echoed his expression before continuing, "In the hallucinatory ones I am now experiencing, the faces of Yifay and Leucon are superimposed upon the bodies of Azan and Rebi's Wysanti grandparents. I am terrified. They say they will use Mezoti the way Icheb's parents used him. "

 

"You know Mazani and Arebi would never do anything like that, even if they had the DNA resequencing technology the Brunali do."

 

"I do know that, Harry. The rescue of their grandsons from the Borg was a miraculous gift. They may hate the Borg for killing their daughter and the twins' father, but Mazani and Arebi are nothing like Yifay and Leucon. I do not believe they could even conceive of the plan Icheb's Brunali parents inflicted upon him. Perhaps my fear that Mezoti could be captured by Icheb's parents to further their plot against the Borg is the true source of these nightmares. Since they no longer have Icheb to sacrifice, they would try to use Mezoti to destroy the Borg instead."

 

"That may be what your brain is doing -- putting your fears into visions so you can deal with them. Seriously, Annika, how would Yifay and Leucon know where to find Mezoti anyway? Unless Icheb mentioned her during the short time he was with them, how would  they even know she exists? Mezoti would never be used like Icheb was, to become a Borg-killing 'Typhoid Mary' on the 'Children's Collective' cube." He kept his other thought to himself: that Mezoti had already been terrorized when the Borg captured and assimilated the Norcadi girl and her parents.

 

Her voice hardened with bitterness, in a way Harry had not heard since Seven first arrived on _Voyager._ "Sending their only son to the Borg. Twice! If we had not transported Icheb from that Brunali ship as it was drawn into that other Borg cube, he would have suffered the pain of assimilation for a second time. And it _is_ very painful. I still have the memories from when it happened to me, and from those I was linked with when I assimilated them. When I was Borg, and helped to destroy so many lives . . ."

 

Harry pulled Seven around the table and hugged her briefly, murmuring softly, "It's not your fault, Seven. You couldn't help it. You weren't an individual. You had no free will. You were forced to do what you did."

 

Seven wiped her eyes from a few droplets of moisture that had gathered there before continuing. "I know that. You have helped me see it. So has the Doctor, Tuvok, the captain -- Tom and B'Elanna, too. I know it 'intellectually,' as the captain says, but the memories are always there. When I first came on board _Voyager_ , I used to try to remember all those voices in my head whenever I contemplated the nature of my existence. It comforted me. Now, it does not. I prefer to contemplate the nature of my own individual existence. That is hard enough sometimes."

 

"I'm sure," Harry agreed. Since Seven had been so close to death only a few weeks ago, he could well imagine how hard it could be. "Our solitary existence, our mortality, is difficult for all of us to accept, even though ultimately, we must."

 

One of Seven's brief smiles brightened her face. "When I faced my own mortality, Harry, one of the people who helped me the most might surprise you. The Doctor was trying to keep me isolated in Sickbay, but one day I escaped into Engineering and hid there. Lieutenant Torres . . . B'Elanna . . . she found me and spoke with me. I was feeling very low. All the knowledge and experiences I had acquired since leaving the Collective would be lost if I died. When I died. I would cease to exist. No one would know me anymore. B'Elanna told me I shouldn't worry so much about being forgotten. That I was 'memorable.' When the Doctor came after me to make me return to Sickbay, she wouldn't let him. She told him, 'we difficult patients have to stick together.' She gave me a task I could perform without taxing my energies too much and promised to 'keep an eye' on me. He wasn't happy about it, but it was much better for me to be active and of use instead of waiting around to die. As I fully expected _would_ happen, until Icheb saved me."

 

"You are certainly memorable, Annika," Harry replied, gratified by receiving another smile when she responded to his use of his private name for her. "We all would remember you. Future generations, too, from your logs. You understand that? We may not all be connected mentally the way drones are, but the memories we record in our logs do connect us. We look back on the past by reading earlier entries. And we leave 'messages' to those who come after us who read ours. Some future Starfleet officer may know all about 'predictable Ensign Kim' by reading about me in yours. This way, we don't really disappear completely from our human collective, if you will."

 

"It is good to hear that. I have read the logs Mezoti left us. They do comfort me, but . . . I miss her, Harry. So much. I knew I would, but I did not realize I would dream about her all the time. And last night . . . I dreamed of another Borg drone." Seven cast her eyes down. "I heard One's voice in last night's dream."

 

Harry could not keep himself from gasping sharply, as if someone had punched him in the stomach. One. The 29th century Borg drone, created from a transporter accident that blended the DNA of Seven and of Ensign Mulcahy with the Doctor's 29th century portable holoemitter. Overnight, a phenomenally advanced maturation chamber appeared, containing the embryo of a remarkable Borg drone that matured into an adult drone in little more than a day. He had been so eager, interacting with the universe in a delightful, childlike manner, yet with an ability to recognize cause and effect -- and danger -- as well as the wisest philosopher or scientist in history.

 

One, who had destroyed himself rather than permit the Borg of this century to obtain him and therefore use his advanced technology to terrorize the galaxy in unimaginable ways.

 

"Annika . . ." Harry could not continue for a moment, but it did not matter. He didn't think she could speak for a moment, either. Sometimes, he thought, emotions and mutual memories could connect two solitary individuals in a way that mimicked the Collective consciousness of the Borg.

 

"I had not heard his voice in my head in a very long time, Harry. I never forgot him. How could I ever do that? He was truly my son, even if I did not give birth to him in the human way, and though I had him for a very short time. It made this dream even more terrifying. I do not know if I wish to experience him in one of these dreams again, or if I . . . if I fear it. Please don't say anything about this to the captain. I don't want her to know about this. This fear. She is always trying to get me to acknowledge this type of emotion."

 

"I won't say a word."

 

She smiled again. "I trust you will not. I would not have told you if I didn't."

 

"Good to know."

 

"Harry, when the captain told Mezoti about Mazani and Arebi's offer to make a home for her on the Wysanti home world, as well as for their grandsons, I was afraid Mezoti would make the decision she did. I believe the captain maneuvered her into accepting their offer. Mezoti told me the captain spoke to her about how many people had died on board _Voyager_ since the ship came to the Delta Quadrant. She made her feel like she would be much safer on a planet."

 

Carefully, Harry responded, "I believe Captain Janeway felt Mezoti _would_ be safer on a planet's surface. I believe she _is_ safer there. But that's not what you feel."

 

"I didn't want to let her go. Mazani and Arebi had wanted to adopt all five of the children, you know. Icheb thanked Arebi and Mazani for their offer, but after his experience with his birth parents, I was not surprised he wanted to remain on _Voyager_ and become a Starfleet officer. Tuvok says he is doing very well in his Starfleet Academy studies, even though his strength has not yet completely returned after what he did to save me."

 

"Tuvok mentioned that the other day. That's great, Annika. And of course, Marla has already adopted little Aimee, our baby 'Borglet.' "

 

Seven nodded at the use of the pet name the crew had once given all five of the children rescued from a derelict Borg cube. All of the adult drones had died due to the Brunali-engineered virus Icheb unwittingly introduced when he was assimilated. "Yes, she was never part of my Borg family. Crewman Gilmore has always been her mother. I do not believe she is officially 'adopted' yet, however."

 

"I understand it's going to happen very soon. Perhaps we'll receive documentation in the next Project Pathfinder transmission. Captain Janeway can't wait to give the news to Marla that little Aimee is now officially her daughter."

 

Both of them fell silent again, and Harry thought perhaps they were both thinking about how different it had been for Mezoti. From the data node records retrieved from the derelict Borg cube, it was clear all of Mezoti's immediate family had been assimilated, and any who survived the process certainly had died on the Borg cube of death. Although the captain tried to get Mezoti's people the Norcadi to look for more distant relations, or even some unrelated family or person to care for her, any search they might have undertaken had been fruitless. Privately, Harry thought the Norcadi had been polite but totally uncooperative. The Norcadi were vehemently anti-Borg, and the only contact with them had always from the captain to the Norcadi, never vice-versa. As _Voyager_ sped further and further away from the Norcadi home world on its journey home to the Alpha Quadrant, Janeway had finally admitted defeat and kept Mezoti on board _Voyager_.

 

When Azan and Rebi's grandparents asked to care for Mezoti, they not only seemed sincere, they were eager to have her live with them. Seven and Icheb had both expressed the desire for Mezoti to stay. He was sure Annika was right. Captain Janeway had deliberately steered the child into making the decision to stay with Azan and Rebi on the Wysanti world. If the captain had any qualms about her action, she would never express it to anyone. It wasn't her way. The captain had said to Seven and Icheb, "It's in the girl's best interests to stay with the two boys who have already been her 'brothers' for quite a while. Mezoti will be much happier on the planet with them rather than traveling through hostile territory on a solitary ship. She'll be able to study insects on a planet. That's what she wants, isn't it? Don't you want to give her that opportunity?" How could they go against what the captain wanted when Mezoti said she wanted it, too?

 

Finally Harry said, "I remember that day. It was hard on us all, but I think Naomi Wildman misses her almost as much as Icheb and you do. Whenever I see Naomi in a corridor or the mess hall, she seems so solemn. She was always happy when Mezoti was around. I'd like to say Naomi's grown up more, but I think she's just lonely."

 

A flicker of pain flashed over Seven's features. "Ensign Wildman told me Naomi cried every night for a week after Mezoti left. I was in Sickbay when she spoke about it, waiting to . . . die. I suspect Mezoti almost changed her mind, right before she left us. In the transporter room, right before they left, she asked Icheb to come to the surface with the others. He said he'd found his home on _Voyager_ , and that she could change her mind and stay with us. She told us that the Wysanti don't say goodbye when they part from someone, but she hugged me anyway. Azan and Rebi did, too. And then they were gone. If my cortical node had not begun to fail right after they left, I might have gone down to the surface to beg her to come back before _Voyager_ left orbit. I already knew I had made a mistake. I should have fought harder to convince her to stay with us. It was too late. And then I almost died."

 

Harry leaned over the corner of the table and put his arms around Seven. "You did what you thought was right at the time, Annika. It would have been terrible for her to lose you then, when she had a chance for another home. You put her welfare before your own. That's what good parents do."

 

"Perhaps," Seven murmured, "but now these . . . nightmares are telling me I should go back. Do you think the captain would be willing to go back for her now? Maybe there _is_ some danger to Mezoti? Something we never anticipated?"

 

"I wish I could tell you what you want to hear, Annika, but I can't. We've been traveling for several weeks _away_ from the Wysanti world. We're still in communications range, just barely, but we won't be in a few days. If you ask, maybe Captain Janeway will let you contact Mezoti one more time. If there is some kind of danger to Mezoti, or if she's very unhappy with her decision, _maybe_ she'll go back for her. But don't count on it. The captain wouldn't have pushed so hard if she didn't think it was best for Mezoti to stay there."

 

"You're probably correct, Harry, but I will request a meeting with Captain Janeway to ask her permission to contact Mezoti before _Voyager_ sails out of communication range. If Mezoti has changed her mind, I will do anything I can to get the captain to return for her. Life aboard _Voyager_ is dangerous, but if Mezoti now has regrets, I'll do anything I can to rectify my mistake. Even beg."

 

Harry wrapped his arms more tightly around Seven and held her for a long time. How strange it was that she had made him promise not to tell the captain anything about her fears, yet she was willing to beg the captain to go back for Mezoti.

 

He loved her all the more for it.

 

=/\=

 

"Enter," Captain Kathryn Janeway called out in response to her ready room door chime. Her head was supported on one hand while her elbow rested on the back of her couch, but she didn't bother to look around. She didn't need to see him. After six years, Chakotay's tread on her carpet was unmistakable. The subject he came to discuss would not be surprising to her, either, she suspected. When he'd reached the steps, she waved him up and wordlessly invited him to sit next to her. The sight of the star field flying past her vision, retreating towards where Mezoti now resided, comforted her. This discussion could become acrimonious, even though she knew her position was the right one.

 

So why did she still feel so agitated whenever she thought of the child?

 

"Harry came to see me."

 

"Of course he did. You're the closest thing to a counselor we have on board. I was sure he'd go to you to try to convince me to allow it."

 

"Are you still feeling guilty about what you did, Captain?"

 

She looked upon him then. It helped to see his expression wasn't accusatory. If anything, she read sympathy in his eyes. He'd commanded his own crew. He knew how difficult some decisions could be to make.

 

"Seriously, Chakotay, you know as well as I do a starship in our situation isn't a fit place to raise youngsters. We're alone out here, far away from any true supports from the Federation. Even a Galaxy class ship of the line might be a dangerous place for families here, if it were alone. Icheb is old enough to accept the risks, as he did when he insisted on staying on board. Naomi was Samantha Wildman's little stowaway. I couldn't deny Marla Gilmore permission to adopt Aimee when the one living relative we could locate was so adamant she couldn't and wouldn't take her granddaughter home with her. If Marla hadn't loved that little tyke so much, I might have insisted Aimee stay on the Wysanti world, too. To miraculously find Azan and Rebi's grandparents, and to have them want to take in Mezoti as well . . . it was the best place for all of them. So much safer than continuing on with us, to a quadrant that isn't really their home."

 

"Safer? Probably. The twins weren't really ever a part of that artificial family we set up with Seven. They looked to each other. But what about the bonds that formed between Mezoti, Icheb, and Seven? The three of them formed a true family unit. That decision broke them up. Aren't the ties of love more important? You recognized that with Marla and Aimee. Why didn't that come into your decision about Mezoti?"

 

"I didn't make the decision. Mezoti chose to leave."

 

His eyes moved away to view the illusion of the stars moving past _Voyager_ , when, of course, it was the ship that was moving towards those brilliant points of light. Finally he said, "Please don't pretend you didn't use that forceful Kathryn Janeway intellect and charm to steer her into doing exactly what you wanted her to do."

 

She sighed. Caught. That wasn't a surprise to her either. He knew her too well. "No, I won't pretend I didn't present the facts in a way to lead her to make the rational choice. I didn't say anything to her that wasn't true. Of all people, you know how deeply I feel the absence of every single one of our people that we've lost on this journey. Just since we left Mezoti with the twins on Wysant, we almost lost Seven and Icheb! Who would have taken care of Mezoti is she _had_ stayed and we'd lost them both?"

 

"That's all true, but Seven is suffering now. Harry says she's having terrible nightmares. She has visions about Icheb's parents going to Wysant to steal Mezoti away, to use her the way Icheb was used."

 

"Really? Chakotay, Seven never said a thing to me about that. Is that why she's so insistent she have the chance to speak with Mezoti once more before we're out of subspace range?"

 

"That's what Harry believes, and so does Icheb. I called him in after I spoke with Harry. She's had terrible dreams several times. She hasn't told Icheb what the actual visions are, but he can tell they're very upsetting. The other night she woke him up by shouting out Mezoti's name. At first Icheb thought the cortical node he donated to Seven was causing the outbursts, but now he's sure they're from Seven missing Mezoti."

 

"That does change things. I was reluctant to give permission because I thought it would make it even harder for Seven and Icheb to accept her loss if they spoke with her again. I may be mistaken. Do you think the nightmares might end if we did allow contact?"

 

"I don't think anyone can say for sure that's what would happen. I doubt the Doctor would even know."

 

"But it might help."

 

"It might."

 

She dropped her hand from her head and sat up in her seat, rubbing her throbbing forehead. Watching the starfield fly by hadn't helped her headache the way she'd hoped. Of course no one could say for sure, but it would be cruel not to try. "All right, Chakotay. We'd better make sure we can still make visual contact before letting Seven know I've granted her request. How soon can you arrange it?"

 

His dimple appeared. "I asked Icheb to stay in Astrometrics until I gave him the word to contact Mezoti's home. We've already tested the connection to Wysant. It should hold for another day or so, but not much longer than that."

 

"Wicked man. You know me too well."

 

"There have been times we haven't been on the same page, Kathryn; but when I heard the whole story from Harry and Icheb, I couldn't imagine you would say no."

 

She shook her head as he stood up to go. "All right. Let me know when contact is made with Mezoti. I want to say 'Hi' to her, too."

 

=/\=


	2. Changing Family Relationships

=/\=

 

". . . I am continuing my study of bugs, Icheb. Arebi and I went into the woods in back of our house and found an ant colony. We decided not to disturb them by relocating it inside glass, into an ant farm like the one I had on _Voyager_. Instead, we have placed tubes with scanners in them into the ground. The ants do not seem to mind our observations through the scanners. It is more natural to see them living their lives in the wild, my biology teacher Masha Santin says. She approved of our study method, which pleased me . . ." In her unique and dispassionate way, Mezoti continued to describe her life on Wysant, her new school, and her life with Azan and Rebi as her adopted brothers.

 

Seven let Icheb ask most of the questions, content to let their conversation wash over her. The details of Mezoti's new life didn't really matter. All Seven cared about was seeing Mezoti safe and happy. Clearly, she was both.

 

" . . . Icheb, how long will we be able to maintain visual contact with you? Arebi said you will be out of range very soon."

 

"Yes, in one or two Federation hours. Isn't that right, Seven?"

 

A response was not optional. "We may lose contact much sooner than that. While we should be able to send word messages for some time yet, the visual circuits are already at maximum and fading even as we speak. This will be the last time we will be able to see each other's faces. I will miss seeing you, Mezoti."

 

"As will I," added Icheb.

 

For the first time, Mezoti's voice faltered. "I will miss you, too, Seven and Icheb. Very much. And everyone on _Voyager_. Are Captain Janeway and Harry Kim still there with you?"

 

The captain and Harry stepped back into the area captured by the visual sensors. "We're here, Mezoti," the captain answered.

 

"Please let everyone on _Voyager_ know I miss them. I wish I could have stayed on Wysant and on _Voyager_ , too, but there is only one of me. I had to choose. If you ever travel this way again, please come see me!" Calm, dispassionate Mezoti disappeared. She might be safer in her new life, even content, but her crumpled face conveyed the pain stabbing through her as she realized she was unlikely to ever see Seven and Icheb again.

 

Seven looked at her captain's face. Her lips were pursed. Seven detected a slight tremor in the captain's voice, which was huskier than usual as she replied to Mezoti's plea. "We will certainly do that . . . if we are ever back this way again."

 

As Seven had predicted, the viewscreen image of Mezoti started to flicker. The static in the aural mode began to worsen. Harry shouted out a quick "Bye! See you around the galaxy!" Icheb and Seven both raised their hands to wave good-bye. Mezoti waved back just before her image dissolved into a field of distant stars.

 

Everyone stood where they were for a few seconds, waiting to see if the break in contact was temporary. When there was no change, Harry moved to the controls and fiddled with them briefly before shaking his head. "We're out of range," he confirmed.

 

"Seven, are you all right? Your face is wet again," Icheb finally asked, anxiously.

 

"I am fine, Icheb. It is only tears."

 

"I thought you could not cry."

 

"The Doctor had to modify your cortical node before implanting it inside me, Icheb. Your emotion inhibitor chip had not completely developed. It was misfiring. He had to remove it. We will both be able to shed tears now, if we must. When this happens, do not be concerned. It is not a malfunction."

 

Icheb raised his hand to his cheeks, surprised to find dampness there, too. "Thank you for warning me," he said. Turning to the captain, he added, "And thank you for letting us speak with Mezoti. Perhaps the Wysanti are wise in not wanting to say good-bye. It can be . . . hurtful." Solemnly, he shook hands with her and Harry before walking slowly to the exit.

 

"I thank you also, Captain. It was good to see her this last time."

 

"I'm glad we did it, too, Harry. Seven, are you feeling any better about leaving Mezoti now?"

 

"I cannot say I feel better about it, Captain; but I believe this contact was necessary. When I was . . . ill, I was unable to judge whether Mezoti was adjusting to her new home. I thought I was dying, so it was better she was with them, whether she was happy with them or not. Now I see she really is content with Mazani and Arebi, even though she misses us. I know Icheb and I will miss her very much."

 

"We all will, Seven, but she's doing so well with the twins and their grandparents. That's all we can hope for." Her voice became even huskier than before. With no more than quick nods to Harry and to Megan Delaney, who was coming on duty, the captain exited Astrometrics at a very fast pace. Seven could not say if this meant Captain Janeway's conscience was bothering her, or if she simply had another duty to attend to. Seven would prefer it were the former.

 

After exchanging greetings with Megan, Harry turned to Seven. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he whispered, "You know I miss Mezoti very much, too, Seven."

 

"I know."

 

"Are you planning to stay here with Megan a while, or do you want to go to your Cargo Bay to regenerate?"

 

"I believe I would prefer to go to the mess hall for a nutritional supplement, Harry. Will you accompany me?"

 

He agreed. She knew he would.

 

As the two of them walked towards the turbolift, several of the crew passed by them. Everyone had a difficult time making eye contact. Some of the crew's comments of, "How are you doing, Seven?" seemed prompted by a sincere desire to know if Seven really was "fine," as she always responded automatically. This time, the inquiries were not the socially acceptable greetings usually exchanged with others, the kind in which the answer was expected to be "fine." The crew apparently had doubts about her state of being.

 

After she made this observation to Harry, he said, "You realize our exchange with Mezoti could be viewed by anyone on the ship who wanted to see it, don't you, Seven?"

 

"I did not," she said gruffly. "I thought our conversation was to be private."

 

They walked silently for a bit, with Seven obviously out of sorts with this new knowledge. She suspected Harry's silence derived from an attempt to put into words something that wouldn't upset her even more. At last he observed, "I don't think the twins got really close to anyone on board. Ayala told me afterwards that it was like they had switched to another starship ship posting in the Alpha Quadrant. No one seemed to mind all that much. With Mezoti, it was different. She made friends with lots of people on _Voyager_ , not just you and Icheb and Naomi Wildman. She was always curious and made very astute observations -- a lot of them very funny -- about whatever the crew was doing. _She_ was fun. Everyone on _Voyager_ really _does_ miss Mezoti. And once word went around the ship about tonight, everyone wanted to see her again, even if they wouldn't be able to speak to her directly."

 

"I didn't know."

 

His eyes met hers as he took her arm and folded it under his. Smiling in what was an obvious (and vain) attempt to encourage her, he told her, "Well, now you do."

 

=/\=

 

A subdued Seven entered the mess hall. Despite the relatively late hour, it was full. Tom and B'Elanna waved at them. "Sit down here with us. Everything's good with our Mezoti right?" Tom said, a little too heartily. It was hard to miss the fact that the couple's eyes seemed sad, even though both had smiles pasted onto their faces.

 

"She seems to be doing well," Seven answered. What else could she say? What had been done could not be undone at this late date.

 

As Seven and Harry took the proffered seats, Neelix hustled over. "Harry, is there anything you want me to prepare for you? I've already programmed Seven's favorite into the replicator."

 

Harry's thanks were subdued when Neelix handed him his chocolate shake. Seven felt a little more moisture appear in her right eye as she accepted what Neelix had replicated for her: a Nutritional Supplement Number Five Milkshake with chocolate sprinkles and whipped cream. It was Mezoti's favorite, too.

 

=/\=

 

"I'm still sorry I made such a fuss in Engineering, Lieutenant."

 

"You don't have to keep apologizing, Icheb. In a way, B'Elanna really does have a parasite inside her! But it's a very welcome one! And before we all know it, our daughter will have her own life to live. I can't wait to meet her!"

 

"Thanks for that, Lieutenant Big Mouth. If I thought I'd be able to keep this a secret from everyone for long, I was obviously mistaken."

 

"Perhaps you could have, Lieutenant Torres, if I had only told you what my tricorder was telling me instead of announcing  it to everyone."

 

She smiled at the youth. "Tom's right, Icheb. Don't worry about it. It really is good news. Tom and I thought we'd have a really tough time conceiving. Who knew my parents had done that little bit of DNA manipulation to let me be able to have a baby from a human or a Klingon without a lot of 'fuss?' "

 

Tom shot a look at her. B'Elanna simply smiled up at her husband. She really was surprised her parents had had the forethought to arrange this for her. And she was definitely NOT going to go into detail about her own attempt to get the Doctor to perform that other bit of DNA manipulation, to make her daughter look all human, particularly not here, in the very public lounge area of the mess hall. She looked intently at Icheb. Tom had gone to Icheb in the middle of that fracas for advice about the readings. That's how Tom found out what she was trying to do. Fortunately, Icheb simply smiled back at her with only a little nod to let her know he was keeping his own counsel about the incident. Maybe this new apology was his way of letting her know he wasn't going to tell anyone else about that _other_ fuss, one which would have been far more damaging to her daughter and to their marriage if Tom hadn't halted it.

 

It was kind of nice to be sitting here this evening, in the middle of happy baby chatter, instead of talking about the latest crisis with the engines, or speculating about the Borg Queen's next move. Then B'Elanna noticed there might be some sort of difficulty with one Borg. Seven did not look very happy at all. Oh, she had congratulated Tom and B'Elanna most sincerely about their happy news when she arrived for her evening meal. Now she was sitting silently next to Icheb on another couch.  She might be physically present, but Seven's mind was obviously a million parsecs from body.

 

Of course. How could they be so insensitive? Seven hadn't been her same semi-abrasive self ever since that last communication with Mezoti. She wasn't over losing her, even though many weeks had gone by since _Voyager_ had left the Norcadi girl behind. Maybe they'd indulged in enough baby talk for one night.

 

"Well, this has been fun, but I think I'm going to take the Doctor's advice for once."

 

Everyone but Seven moaned sarcastically. "Since when, B'Elanna?" Harry snickered.

 

"Since I really am feeling tired. He warned me that was one of the symptoms of pregnancy. I think it's time I went to bed. Tom?" She smiled sweetly at him, but once she knew he was looking at her, she quickly looked at a still-pensive Seven before making eye contact with him again.

 

His eyes had followed her gaze, and he winked. "I think I'll join you."

 

Now the derisive hoots were decidedly more suggestive in nature. "Just to sleep, Paris?" Larsson laughed.

 

"Are you trying to get me into trouble here, Brian?" As the laughter continued all around them, Tom offered his hand to help B'Elanna get up off the couch. She really didn't need his help right now and almost growled back, but suddenly she realized that all too soon, she probably _would_ need his help. With a sigh, she grabbed his hand. As they said their good-byes to the group, Seven did not appear to hear them.

 

When he was passing Harry, B'Elanna saw Tom pretend to stumble. Leaning down next to Harry, Tom whispered into his friend's ear, "I think you need to have a talk with Seven. She seems a little down."

 

Harry didn't stop smiling, but he whispered back, "I know."

 

Tom clapped him on the shoulder and stood up to leave. Once the couple reached the corridor outside the messhall, he said, "You know what's bothering her, right?"

 

"I think so. Icheb is good for her, but he's not a little kid. I don't know what anyone can do. There's no way we'll ever get back to Mezoti now."

 

With that mood-dampening end to their evening, Tom murmured, "Let's go home. We really should learn to 'sleep when the baby sleeps,' like the Doc says."

 

B'Elanna rolled her eyes in response, but he was right. Their baby might not be 'waking up' for months, but it wasn't a bad habit for either of them to get into.

 

=/\=

 

Harry walked Seven to her Cargo Bay that night. He'd wanted to speak with her about what was bothering  her, even though he was pretty sure he knew what it was. When Icheb decided to walk with them, however, Harry was reluctant to say very much. Seven replied to several general questions, but he gathered she wasn't really in the mood to get into any serious discussions this evening. Perhaps Icheb had picked up on that, too, and that's why he chose to walk with them back to their "former Borg quarters."

 

For the next two days, Harry's schedule and Seven's were not in sync. There wasn't any opportunity for them to speak privately about anything. On the third evening, however, just as Harry and Seven came off Alpha shift duty, Icheb left for a Starfleet Academy training session with Tuvok. Harry invited Seven to his quarters for a replicated dinner instead of facing "another Neelix meal." When she accepted, he knew this was the perfect time to discuss her continuing malaise -- if she was willing to talk about it, that is. Harry was under no illusions. If she didn't want to talk, there was no point in trying to press her.

 

During the actual meal, they didn't say very much at all. Ingesting nutritional supplements of the Doctor-devised variety was all she really wanted to do. Harry was not very optimistic things would go much better afterwards, but he was wrong. As soon as the meal was over, Seven pulled off her uniform and grabbed at Harry's to divest him of his. "I need you, Harry." And that was all she said.

 

Their lovemaking was not their usual fun romp between the sheets. The regeneration unit in Harry's quarters wasn't touched. Seven's need for Harry was so intense, it bordered upon desperation. He wanted to talk with her, but if this was what she wanted and obviously needed, how could he deny her? Their coming together wasn't exactly violent, but the sex was so vigorous, Harry was exhausted by the time they reached climax.

 

Afterwards, the mellowness they usually shared wasn't really there either, even though Seven laid her head on Harry's shoulder and snuggled close to him the way she usually did. After a few minutes, Harry became aware of another sensation. Gently, he pointed out, "Annika, I think your right eye is leaking on my chest."

 

After a hesitation of several seconds, she replied, "I believe you are correct."

 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

 

She sighed as she wiped her cheek. "Not really, but I believe I must." Breathing in deeply, she continued, "Would you father my child?"

 

There were many things his Annika could have said to him that would have shocked him, but none approached what he felt after she asked that question of him. He would have to be very careful how he replied. "Of course, Annika. I'd love to marry you and have a family with you. We'll have to talk it over with the captain, of course . . . "

 

"No, I mean, I want you to give me a child now."

 

That made him go up on his elbow and look into her face. Seven's subtle sense of humor was nowhere in evidence, not surprising, given her melancholy mood of late. She was absolutely serious. "Annika, I know losing Mezoti was traumatic for you, and having our best friends find out they're pregnant may make things even worse, but do you really think we're ready for that yet?"

 

"We have been lovers for over two years. I believe we are in a committed relationship. Are you of a differing opinion?" The sharpness in this remark was unmistakable.

 

"If you 're asking if I love you with my whole heart and soul, of course I do! But we're in a really dangerous area of space right now. Starfleet protocol demands we seek permission for our marriage from our commanding officer. I don't think Captain Janeway would agree right now to . . . "

 

"Captain Janeway has nothing to say about this! She has already interfered in family affairs on this ship far too much. I do not doubt you are correct about the captain not being willing to marry us. She says she wants me to help me 'discover my humanity' but she is unwilling to respect that when it counts."

 

"You mean the way she finessed Mezoti into leaving Voyager."

 

Seven had been looking away from him for most of this discussion, but now she stared at him. "You agree with me now?"

 

"I always have, even if I didn't tell you, Annika. You told me months ago, when Icheb chose to stay on Brunal with his parents, that Mezoti woke you and told you she couldn't regenerate because she missed Icheb -- and that she never wanted to leave _Voyager_. I know some bad things happened after that, but I think the worst for Mezoti happened when we found out what Icheb's parents really wanted him to stay for: to be their sacrificial lamb. The captain wouldn't have gone back for him, either, if she hadn't found out they had lied to us, and then that they were throwing him to the Borg once again. After all that happened, even with the dangers, I find it hard to believe Mezoti decided to leave you and stay with the twins when she was always so much closer to you and Icheb. Not without a lot of prodding. Who else could have done it but Captain Janeway?"

 

"Harry, I should have convinced Mezoti to stay."

 

" _You_ respected _Mezoti's_ individuality and allowed her to make her own decision, even if the captain had a hand in it. Painful as it is for those of us here on _Voyager_ who cared for her, Mezoti probably is safer where she is now than she would be here with us. And for us to have a baby now, without the captain's permission . . . I don't know, Annika. Do we really want to risk that?"

 

"Harry, I find the desire to have a child compelling whenever I see baby Aimee with Marla Gilmore. I love Icheb in a different way than that. Perhaps he is more like my younger brother than my son, but our bond is very strong. I have taken steps to adopt him through Project Pathfinder, the way Marla is adopting Aimee, but I want more. I do want a child of my own. Of ours. Tom and B'Elanna are happy about their baby. That baby will be just as much in harm's way as ours would be."

 

"Having a baby is a different proposition from caring for Icheb, Mezoti, and the twins. They needed supervision and guidance, not total care. When Aimee was a newborn, you didn't say anything to the captain about caring for her before Marla said she wanted her."

 

"The captain had already assigned me to take care of the four older children. I knew I couldn't take care of Aimee, too. I'm glad Marla asked for her. It has been good for all of the _Equinox_ crew to have Aimee. In a way, she has a mother and four 'uncles' who love her, just the way Neelix has loved and cared for Naomi as her adopted uncle. I have come a long way since then, Harry. I have experience with children I didn't have before our 'Borglets' came to me. The only child I ever knew before then was Naomi. If you don't count One, that is."

 

"He was a grown up the day he was born, so you didn't have to care for him as a baby."

 

"No, but I did have to teach him things, and he taught me, too. He taught me what it is to love a child." Tears began to flow from her biological eye again. "He taught me what it was to lose a child, too, but I didn't have him very long, not as long as I had Mezoti. As bad as I felt losing One -- oh, Harry, it has been so much worse with Mezoti."

 

"Annika, Annika. Let's think about committing to each other by asking the captain to let us marry. Then, if a baby comes, like with Tom and B'Elanna, it would just be a natural part of our life together. Would it be so wrong to wait?"

 

"Marriage is irrelevant."

 

"No, Annika, it is not irrelevant when children are involved. Parents with a stable relationship help a child grow up with a great deal of self-esteem."

 

"There have been many individuals throughout recorded history who have become spectacularly successful, even though they only had one parent, or had parents who were not formally married."

 

"When parents are married, they're more likely to stay together."

 

"Many marriages end in divorce. According to the literature, this can be extremely destructive to the children."

 

"Annika, I grew up in a family where the parents were married and devoted to each other. And to me! They had to wait a very long time before I was born to them because my mom had several miscarriages. They stayed together throughout many disappointments until finally, I came. This is important to me. I want us to commit to each other in that way. You are such a special person. And I love you so very much. Please . . ."

 

"Your mother longs to be a grandmother."

 

"Doesn't she, though! Her letters are full of questions about when we'll marry and how many kids we plan to have."

 

Seven rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She shed no more tears, but the expression on her face left no doubt that she was on the verge. "And that is another reason I wish to 'try' even before we marry. I know how much your parents wish to have grandchildren from their only son. I do not know if my reproductive system has been negatively affected by my assimilation. The Doctor has confirmed my ovaries and uterus are intact, and my eggs appear normal. Still, there is no way to know what will happen until I do become pregnant. If I can become pregnant. It is logical to confirm my ability to provide grandchildren for them, Harry. We can discuss marriage again after I become gravid. My feelings about the 'irrelevancy' of marriage may change. You know I do not use the 'love' word very often, but Harry, I do love you. Sometimes love is not enough."

 

"I think it is. And luckily enough, I am now well-enough versed in 'Borg Speak' to realize you're saying it by the many ways you show me you do. And I hope you can see it from me, even when I don't say it in so many words. There. That's almost like Tom and B'Elanna. According to Tom, they don't say 'I love you' to each other all that often, but they know they do. And when they do say it, maybe it means even more."

 

Seven smiled over at Harry. "Perhaps it does. It does not hurt to say it more than I do, though. Harry, I do love you. Please, let's leave the talk of marrying for another night. Make love to me now."

 

Harry obliged with great enthusiasm.

 

He might not have been quite so enthused if he had known Seven had removed her birth control implant two days before, without the Doctor's knowledge. He would have been even more perturbed if he realized she had calculated Harry's implant was losing potency, since it was already several days past its expiration date.

 

=/\=

 


	3. Mere Obstacles

=/\=

 

Tom rolled into Sickbay a few minutes early for his shift. Usually, this would have merited a sarcastic remark from the Doctor about how amazing and unusual an occurrence this was. Not today. The Doctor was too intent upon his conversation with his current patient to even notice Tom's arrival. As a matter of fact, the Doctor was yelling at his patient, who was returning every yell from the EMH with one almost as loud as his --  and Seven's were infinitely more insulting in tone.

 

"This is against regulations, Ensign! The captain will be as aghast as I am when she finds out. You didn't tamper with Mr. Kim's while you were at it, did you?"

 

"There was no need. He was tardy in renewing the device. And the captain will not find out unless you tell her."

 

"I HAVE TO TELL HER! It's my JOB to keep her informed of any health issues with this crew!"

 

"You just told me my examination failed to uncover any significant health issues."

 

Somewhat mollified, the Doctor replied, at much less volume, "Yes, Ensign, that is correct. Apart from a very tiny infection in your uterus, which your nanoprobes are already dealing with quite nicely, you are otherwise as healthy as a horse. Or perhaps I should say a mule, since that's the way you've been acting."

 

Frostily, Seven returned, "I believe the female equivalent of a mule is a 'hinny,' Doctor."

 

Through clenched teeth, the Doctor answered, "I stand corrected."

 

At this point, Tom seriously considered tiptoeing out of Sickbay to wait in the corridor until the tumult had ended. He quickly scotched the notion. Why walk in late and incur the wrath of the EMH when he was already at the limit of his patience, thanks to Seven? After all, as the field medic responsible for the crew's medical care whenever the Doctor was off duty and indulging in one of his many hobbies, Tom really needed to know about whatever was going on. Too bad he couldn't share any of this with B'Elanna, but that would be strictly against medical ethics. Maybe he could convince Harry to spill whatever he knew about the matter. If Harry told B'Elanna, that wouldn't be Tom telling tales out of school, would it?

 

Turning to the instrumentation panel nearest to the door, Tom made himself as inconspicuous as possible. His ears, however, were at full attention when the Doctor's peeved silence was broken by what he probably thought would be a more acceptable approach.

 

"At least I will be able to tell the captain that no harm has been done. You're not pregnant. I will, of course, have to insert a new birth control implant immediately."

 

"No, you will not. I do _not_ give my permission."

 

Tom couldn't control himself. His head whipped around at Seven's intransience.

 

"The captain is not going to like this."

 

"I do not _care_. It is MY body. Not the captain's. Not Starfleet's. It isn't Harry's, either, although I'm pleased to share it with him whenever we have both the desire and opportunity to do so. I have the right to refuse medical treatment. I do so refuse."

 

"What is really going on here, Seven?" the Doctor asked. This time, he didn't sound angry; he seemed befuddled.

 

"It is an experiment." She paused, taking several deep breaths before continuing, "I do not know if I even require a birth control implant. As I explained to Harry, my assimilation may have had unforeseen consequences. I will not know if I can carry a child to term until I have succeeded in becoming  pregnant."

 

She sounded so very sad to Tom. It sounded like she really didn't think she could carry a baby within her body. This thought was quickly followed by another. The Borg place any immature beings they've assimilated into maturation chambers. As Aimee Gilmore proved, they do this with a developing fetus, too. One, the exceptional but ill-fated Borg created from the Doctor's holoemitter and cells from Seven and Ensign Mulcahy, developed in a day in a maturation chamber. Is this simply a convenience, relieving the drones from child care duties, or did the practice originate from biological necessity?

 

Neither the Doctor nor Seven appeared to be aware of his presence. To warn them, Tom cleared his throat as he walked towards the pair. "Well, how good of you to finally make an appearance, Mr. Paris. Only five minutes late," the Doctor sniffed.

 

"Actually, I've been here for at least ten minutes. If you two hadn't been so busy arguing, you would've noticed. I heard a lot of your 'discussion,' but some of the details that led to it are unclear."

 

As both Seven and the Doctor began to speak simultaneously, Tom raised his hand and stopped them. "Let me tell you what I've already heard, so we can get to the good parts more quickly. Seven, you removed your birth control implant without the Doctor's knowledge -- or Harry's, I suspect?"

 

She nodded in agreement.

 

"And Doctor, Seven is not currently pregnant, even though the device has been missing for approximately . . . You have to help me here, Seven. I didn't hear that."

 

"Twenty-three days. Approximately." Her sneer would have been rather unsettling for Tom if it hadn't been directed towards the Doctor's position.

 

"And Seven is perfectly healthy, except for a 'tiny' infection of her uterus, which her nanoprobes are already taking care of 'quite nicely,' I think was your phrase, Doctor?"

 

"Yes," the EMH grunted.

 

"If I may be so bold to ask, how closely did you look at the area of infection, Doc?"

 

"What are you getting at, Mr. Paris?" the Doctor inquired, suddenly aware of how little he had paid attention to scanning that area.

 

"Just a hunch, which I hope turns out to be nothing but my ridiculous imagination running overtime."

 

All three went to the scanning screen. The Doctor called up the area in question from the earlier microcellular scan and set it to a single, frozen image. Tom bumped up the magnification and increased the resolution of the image. The area of infection was thickly surrounded by Seven's nanoprobes, which were doing their usual efficient job of cleansing away the undesirable cells and resultant debris. Tom zoomed in on some of this debris, with magnification high enough so that individual chromosomes were visible.

 

For a minute the three examined the scan without speaking. Then Seven said hollowly, "I suspected something like this might occur."

 

The images showed the presence, not of any biological infectious agent, but human chromosomes, several of which were of the XY type. The cells clearly were not Seven's own XX chromosomes, nor were they sperm left over from her last session of intercourse with her lover, because they were paired. They could only have come from an embryo.

 

Tom exhaled heavily and said sadly, "I guess we now know the real reason Aimee was stuffed into that maturation chamber when her mother was assimilated."

 

=/\=

 

" . . . from what we could see in the microcellular scan, apparently Ensign Hansen is capable of conceiving a child. We detected a residue of DNA that is consistent with a male human embryo, which was attacked by her nanoprobes when implantation into the uterine wall commenced. The nanoprobes obviously interpreted the embryo to be a foreign invader and dealt with it as such. So, Captain, I would have to say a birth control implant is an unnecessary procedure for Ensign Hansen. Her own internal birth control system is ruthlessly efficient."

 

"Thank you, Doctor. I believe we have the details well in hand now."

 

From the way Seven's head was drooping, the Doctor's recitation was not only redundant but painful. As unhappy with this whole situation as she was, Captain Janeway had to sympathize with her multiply gifted but always difficult protégée. Her unfortunate child's father, Lieutenant Kim, looked just as devastated by the news.

 

"Seven . . ."

 

"I believe this interview requires the use of 'Ensign Hansen,' Captain. You are planning to give me an official reprimand, are you not?" A little of the habitual steel in Seven's voice returned during this interpolation, as she raised her gaze to look directly, and stonily, at her commanding officer before redirecting it to the conference room viewport behind the captain's chair.

 

"Ensign Hansen, then. I have not yet decided to establish this as an official disciplinary review, but the regulations you agreed to follow when you formally entered Starfleet are clear. From everything that's been said here, you were perfectly aware you were breaking the rules. Please explain yourself."

 

"My desire for a child is part of my return to humanity, which, as you have repeatedly reminded me, is a primary goal you've set for me since I came on board _Voyager_. I made this decision on my own, as an individual. While I did discuss the issue with Lieutenant Kim, he never agreed to participate actively in procreating a child."

 

"Wait a minute. You can't totally exonerate me in this, Seven. I was negligent in renewing my own birth control method. I may have been 'thinking it over' when you asked me about this, but I should have taken the initiative and made sure an accident like this could not happen while we were considering the idea. If I had, we wouldn't be suffering this loss right now."

 

"If you had, we still would not know I could not carry a child to term. Perhaps this is for the best. We no longer need to think about 'changing the nature of our affiliation' through marriage. We may continue to go on as we have." The bitterness in Seven's verbalization was impossible to ignore.

 

To the captain's left, her first officer cleared his throat, as if he were about to add to the discussion. Janeway groaned softly. The last thing she needed now was for her second in command to jump in, since he was almost sure to take Seven and Harry's side. Before he could actually say anything, the captain hastily continued, "This whole situation is unorthodox in the extreme. It's not like One, who arrived accidentally in a way no one could have foreseen. And Naomi was a 'stowaway' inside Ensign Wildman when we were all snatched into the Delta Quadrant by the Caretaker. Since you were proposing to become a 'single mother' quite deliberately, this is an entirely different matter. Lieutenant Kim, your attempt to shoulder some of the blame concerning Ensign Hansen's actions are noble, but it's obvious she proceeded without your permission. I much prefer a situation like Tom and B'Elanna's, where their mating and marriage stabilized their relationship after an extended courtship -- and only then conceived a child."

 

"Captain, may I ask how long an 'extended courtship' must last before you're willing to grant permission for marriage and perform a wedding ceremony?" While Chakotay's question was asked in a very mild, non-confrontational manner, the captain knew there was a lot more going on underneath. She was sure she was not going to like it at all when he told her about it -- which he was certain to do.

 

"I haven't given thought to any specific length of time, Commander. I will consider your question, as I will this entire episode and its ramifications, I assure you."

 

With a sad sigh, Seven whispered, "It doesn't matter. The question is moot. You won't have to worry about any unexpected pregnancies on my part."

 

The gloom that had hovered over the room during the entire meeting finally descended, stifling everyone's desire to speak further. Heavily, Captain Janeway managed to pronounce, "Dismissed." The Doctor left the conference room first, in front of a very unhappy couple. Harry had his arm around Seven's shoulders and gave her a quick kiss just before their exit.

 

"Going to discipline them for inappropriate public displays of affection, Kathryn?" Chakotay asked.

 

"Please. You know that would be rubbing salt into the wounds. Even Seven's nanoprobes wouldn't be able to deal with that pain."

 

"I'm glad you realize that."

 

"Oh, Chakotay, what am I going to do with her? She'd been doing so well, almost a model Starfleet officer, just as she was an exemplary Borg back in the day. Now this. It's like we've slipped back three years, to the days right after we had to 'unassimilate' her."

 

"Not exactly. Back then, she was openly belligerent with virtually everyone, all the time. Now she's in a loving relationship with Harry. She has Icheb. Tom and even B'Elanna are friendly with her. I'd say the rest of our crew not only tolerates, but appreciates her for her unique abilities and talents. The occasional Borg tantrum that does erupt is often viewed as an idiosyncrasy, like Mortimer Harren's getting carried away in flights of theoretical fantasy. She fits in well. Despite her pain, I don't expect it to change."

 

"You mean, it's just with me she gets this way."

 

"You were the one who kept harping upon Seven's need to become an individual; to make her own decisions and live with the consequences. This one just bit you back more than most of them do."

 

"That doesn't make it any easier to take."

 

He answered her with a shrug of the shoulders.

 

"Now, Commander, what point were you trying to make with that comment about the length of a courtship before approving a marriage?"

 

"Just that in six years, you've given permission for exactly one marriage. We've even managed more promotions than that by now. I've heard a few whispers you only agreed to Tom and B'Elanna's wedding because they're your 'favorites.'"

 

"That's ridiculous, Chakotay. I approved it because after dancing around each other since our second year out here -- or earlier, for all I know -- and three years of dating each other exclusively, they had reached the stage where they would either commit to marriage or break up. Everyone could see what they wanted was to be together. Breaking up would have been detrimental to the entire crew, don't you agree?"

 

"Oh, I do agree. But other couples may have reached the same stage."

 

"No one else has made a request."

 

"Not to you, maybe. They talk to me about it and ask me if I'll get you to say OK."

 

"What? Who?"

 

"Amanda Lang and Brian Larsson have been together almost three years. Our Bolians Chell and Gowat have come to me. Swinn and Harper, too. Tabor and Jor were an item on the _Val Jean_ , even before we came on _Voyager_. They said they were happy to keep things the way they were for a long time, but since Tom and B'Elanna's wedding, now it's time for them to settle down, too. Or 'put up or shut up,' as Crewman Jor said. They all want permission to marry."

 

"I don't understand. Everyone seemed to accept the idea of 'keeping things the way they are' from the beginning of our journey."

 

"Exactly. That was over six years ago. In the beginning, our people were either so shell-shocked about the enormity of what a seventy-years-long-journey through the Delta Quadrant would entail for a solitary vessel, or they thought that by some miracle, we'd find a way to get home in no time. Remember how excited everyone got about our Romulan scientist friend Telek, who was going to get us a ship so we could transport to the Alpha Quadrant through that tiny wormhole? Then it turned out, due to a temporal displacement, he was actually twenty years in the past at the time we were speaking with him -- and he'd died years before we were even lost in the Delta Quadrant. Then there was the wormhole with the Ferengi 'profits,' as Tom always insists we spell it . . . "

 

"Please, don't remind me! At least we freed the people of that planet from exploitation when the two fled through that collapsing wormhole to who knows where."

 

"It was a disaster for our crew to see a chance to go home collapse, though. And then we _got_ home to Earth, but because we landed in the past, in the twentieth century, the Federation Temporal Police made us go back to our own time and former location in the Delta Quadrant."

 

"Okay. I get it. Everyone was willing to put their lives on hold until we got home. But we're _not_ home. In six years, we've traveled farther than we thought we could get in thirty. We've established contact with the Alpha Quadrant on a regular basis. We communicate with our families through Project Pathfinder. Why is all this happening now?"

 

"It's _been_ six years. We may have traveled almost half the distance home, but who knows if we'll be able to travel the rest of the way in as little as six years? Maybe it will take fifteen years. Twenty years. Maybe it will take more than thirty years, the amount of time we'd originally calculated we'd need to cover that distance. Some of those family members they're corresponding with over Pathfinder won't be around anymore when we get back. Our people are starting to realize some of _them_ will never get home, either. We've got a few people in their fifties and sixties. The Doctor has all the medical knowledge of the Federation in his matrix, but he doesn't always have the resources to fully utilize it for his patients. I already have a few staff I can't send on the more vigorous away missions because they don't have the stamina to do them anymore, even though they're working out as religiously as our younger people to try to keep up their strength. People weaken as they age. "

 

Janeway closed her eyes briefly as a whisper of pain washed over her face. "And of course, we've lost people, too. Too many, Chakotay. Too many."

 

With sympathy, he acknowledged, "Yes, too many. We've saved as many as we could, but that 'intimation of mortality' hits home eventually. The urge to create a family and have children to follow us -- that's hitting home now, too. Seriously, if our trip does take twenty or thirty years, even if we don't lose anyone needlessly -- a vain hope in my opinion -- are we going to have the minimum number of crew members to run this ship? Back on the Briori world, we figured it takes a hundred to keep _Voyager_ running the way it should. We may need to grow our own replacement crew, and if so, we need to start now. We can't expect Icheb, Naomi, Aimee, and whoever B'Elanna delivers to carry the entire load themselves."

 

"Is this another dig at me about letting Mezoti go?"

 

He looked away from her, down toward the exit door. "Not really. There's no point in continuing any recriminations on that score. But getting back to your original question, about 'Why now?' -- Do you think Seven would have taken this action if she hadn't lost Mezoti? Because I think that has everything to do with her sudden desire for a baby, and hang the repercussions from us -- or even Harry, for that matter."

 

Janeway leaned her elbow on the table and rubbed her forehead with her hand. Another headache was bound to come along at this rate. She couldn't bring herself to answer Chakotay. She knew he was right. She'd thought she'd taken the correct actions in regard to Mezoti, but this whole fiasco was another unintended consequence of that decision.

 

Safety was important, but so was a loving relationship between people, whether it's two people who want to live their lives together as a married couple or a child with a parent helping that child grow into a competent adult. If she were to let Chakotay know her true reasoning for permitting the Paris-Torres marriage, she would have to admit that she never thought they would be able to reproduce a child without extensive help. Usually that was the way it was for hybrids like B'Elanna. Even the Doctor hadn't predicted B'Elanna's parents' prescience in making it possible for her to have a child with either of her heritages without outside aid. But now baby Paris or Torres or Paris-Torres or whatever her name would be was on her way. No going back from that decision, either.

 

She'd made a choice for herself way back when. Her attraction to Chakotay must not be allowed to flourish. Starfleet protocols prevented it. As far as she was concerned, _Voyager's_ unique circumstances were no excuse to flout them. Thank God they had had those few, precious months alone together on the unnamed planet of biting insects and monkey neighbors. Remembering that time was always bittersweet, but sometimes it was the only thing that kept her sane. That, and the occasional fling in Fair Haven with the holographic Irish pub owner, Michael Sullivan.

 

Having a child of her own could never happen. She was already overwhelmed with caring for her crew, her surrogate children on _Voyager_.

 

She was aware her first officer was calmly waiting for her to answer him. She would not, could not, say anything more about Mezoti. That subject would have to remain closed. However, the other issue was one she could do something about.

 

"Chakotay, let those couples who've come to you know that if they wish to pursue marriage, they should enter into premarital counseling with you. If you can refer them to me with your wholehearted recommendation to approve their mating, then I will give my permission and perform the ceremony. And I'll do it gladly. Just remember to include a discussion about the fact that this ship may, as you just pointed out, take thirty years more to get home. That's a long time to live on a relatively small ship if your relationship hasn't worked out, even if a divorce can be obtained via Project Pathfinder. Can you do that?"

 

"Of course I can. It sounds like a good plan, actually."

 

Her lips skewed almost by their own volition into a crooked half smile. "I appreciate your approval."

 

He returned her smile but then became more solemn. "I wish this would help Ensign Hansen and Lieutenant Kim."

 

"Some things they'll need to deal with themselves. If they come to you and say they do want to get married after all, the same protocol would apply to them as it would for all the others. I'll add this discussion, and the minutes of our earlier meeting, into our logs; but I'm not going to go any further with any disciplinary actions. I think they're already being punished enough."

 

To this, he could only say, "I agree."

 

=/\=

 

When she entered Sandrine's, B'Elanna noted the crowd was fairly quiet tonight. Tom was sitting with Harry and Seven in the corner, behind the piano. No sign of the Doctor, so at least they shouldn't have to endure any long operatic interludes this evening. She didn't mind the occasional aria. He really did have a very nice vocal subroutine, but the EMH was far too fond of the sound of his own voice and tended to monopolize the evening when given the opportunity.

 

From the grim look on Seven's face, she wouldn't be volunteering any solos, either. That was actually too bad; B'Elanna liked Seven's singing voice. A few times recently, Tom had sung a duet with her. The blend of their voices was so much nicer than the Doctor's was with Seven, although he was totally oblivious that this was the case. It helped that when Seven sang with Tom, the "classics" were of the popular variety. 

 

"Sorry I'm late. The inspection of the aft thrusters took a lot longer than expected. We had to clean . . . What's the matter? You all look like you've lost your best friend."

 

Tom put his arms around B'Elanna as she slid into the booth next to him. He looked as glum as Harry and Seven, but he maintained his silence until Seven said, "It is all right to tell her, Mr. Paris. I give you my permission to share my . . . my medical status with your wife." Harry nodded to show his approval, too. In a few succinct sentences, Tom told her about his unhappy hunch and discovery in Sickbay.

 

"Seven, I'm so sorry. Would you prefer to be alone tonight? We can get another table. A few are still available."

 

Seven slowly shook her head. "No, it's fine. Harry and I would prefer your company."

 

After asking Harry and Seven if they wanted anything from the bar and receiving a negative response, Tom excused himself to order drinks for B'Elanna and himself. As soon as he had turned his back, B'Elanna leaned forward and asked softly, "Does the captain know?"

 

"Of course she does," Seven spit out, with a grimace.

 

"The Doc told her. She called us on the carpet for an immediate disciplinary meeting this afternoon. We haven't heard about what's going to happen yet. I think my lieutenant's pip may be history."

 

"No, Harry," Seven said, patting his arm gently. "I believe your pip is safe. The captain understands I did this without telling you. If anything, I will become Crewman Hansen."

 

A minute later, Tom arrived with B'Elanna's prune juice and his synthale to a table wreathed in silence. "Hey, did you hear the one about . . ."

 

Harry put up his hand. "Tom, my sense of humor isn't capable of responding to _any_ jokes tonight, no matter how good they are. Sorry. It's been a pretty devastating day."

 

Seven shrugged her agreement.

 

"Okay. Just thought it was worth a try. Do you want me to change the background music? Maybe something a little more up tempo would help?"

 

"The music is fine . . . Tom. I don't feel very much like talking right now. I believe Harry and I would just like to sit here with the two of you for a while. You are our friends. Your presence is helpful, even if we are not likely to converse very much."

 

After Seven's comment, the four sat quietly for several minutes, sipping drinks and snacking on the pretzels and dip Tom had ordered for the group before B'Elanna's arrival.

 

At first B'Elanna was discomfited by the awkward silence. After a couple of minutes, though, B'Elanna's mind began to work. Seven's miscarriage -- as Tom had called it -- was obviously a great disappointment for the couple.

 

Ever since the four had gone on their "excellent" vacation in Tahiti, the prize from the contest Seven had won, the two couples socialized far more frequently with each other than with anyone else on board _Voyager_. B'Elanna had once thought the best thing for everyone was for "that Borg" to leave _Voyager_. Now, she counted Seven as one of her closest female friends. What do you do for friends who have suffered a grave loss? Just commiserate with them and then ignore their pain? That's not how B'Elanna did things.

 

The chief engineer of _Voyager_ decided this was a mere obstacle that needed to be overcome with a little ingenuity and some creative engineering, both of which B'Elanna had in abundance. Seven and Harry were no slouches in that regard either. And while Tom was more of a cheerleader when they had that sort of project going, he often came up with insights that made all the difference. "If we could come up with the _Delta Flyer_ , despite our lack of resources, we can lick this problem, too."

 

B'Elanna hadn't realized she'd spoken aloud until she saw three pairs of eyes staring at her. "Well, we can. So, Seven, you can't carry a baby inside your own body. You're not the first woman to have faced that problem. We'll just have to figure out a way to do it another way."

 

"Tom mentioned the possibility of in-vitro fertilization and having a surrogate mother carry a baby for us," Harry said patiently. "That technology has been around for three centuries. Actually I think that's how my mother finally had me. She didn't like to talk about it much. But we're sure the captain would never give permission for one of the crew to do that for us now, especially since you'll be needing to go on modified duty soon. When you do, we'll be down a crew member for certain assignments."

 

"I beg to differ about 'soon,' but 'eventually,' yeah, you're right about that, Harry. But I wasn't thinking about using a human incubator. The one I have in mind has already proven itself to be a very efficient way of developing a new human being. In fact, it's a little too efficient right now. We don't dare use it the way it was before. We don't want to attract the attention of the Borg again."

 

"You are thinking of One's maturation chamber."

 

"Yes, Seven. It's the logical choice, isn't it? Your remaining Borg technology prevents you from carrying a baby. Let's use Borg technology to take over for you. Do you have any idea how maturation chambers work?"

 

"I have some knowledge of them from my time with the Borg. One's was an extremely advanced version, however, since it was constructed automatically, with the help of 29th century technology."

 

"Right. That's what I meant about being a 'little too efficient.' You're already adopting Icheb, right? You don't need another big guy like him. You want a baby. We need to figure out a way to protect your fetus for several months before his or her birth. We don't want your child to develop in a day, the way One did."

 

"That's right," Tom chimed in. "One of the advantages of single cell reproduction and an extended pregnancy is that the parents get a chance to prepare for their new family member. It's not just physical preparation. There's the mental part, too. You have to study up on what to expect once the baby arrives. And the parents' relationship has to adjust to having a new member of the family."

 

"Yes, Doctor Paris," B'Elanna agreed, with a laugh.

 

Tom returned her grin before adding, "Seven, since you do know something about maturation chambers, do you know if there's a limit on how soon the embryo can be introduced into the chamber? Your nanoprobes stepped in to destroy the 'invader' within a few days after conception. The maturation chamber would have to be able to accept the baby almost immediately."

 

Seven reviewed her memories for a moment. "I believe a fetus generally must have reached a certain stage of development before being introduced into a normal maturation chamber. However, One and his maturation chamber were apparently conceived simultaneously. His entire gestation was spent inside it. If we can slow down the rate of fetal development in the chamber to some degree . . ."

 

"And modify it so that the baby is a human child, not a Borg . . . ," Tom interjected.

 

"Yes, exactly. That modification would also be necessary. However, if we can surmount the technical difficulties, I believe it may be possible for a fetus to spend virtually its entire period of gestation within the chamber. It might work." Seven's hushed pronouncement suggested that despair had begun to be replaced by hope.

 

"Wait. Hold on, everyone. We'd have to have the captain's permission for a project like this. Do you really think she'd let us do this now? We may have already messed up any chance we'd have for her to say it's okay because of what happened today," Harry said gloomily.

 

"I really don't think she'd be that vindictive, Harry. The key to being allowed to do this is to ask for her permission first. Don't try to sneak anything past her again. That's really what upset her, right?"

 

"I don't know, B'Elanna . . . "

 

"Harry, I agree with B'Elanna. We should ask the captain for permission to modify the maturation chamber. We already have all the parts in storage. We disassembled it so the Borg would not realize how advanced the technology is. We could rebuild it. It may turn out to be impossible to make the modifications we must in order for the plan to work, but at least we can ask."

 

"Seven, if we do this, does this mean you'd be willing to marry me?"

 

"The captain has not granted permission to anyone but Tom and B'Elanna to marry. Even if she would give us permission, I would wish to prove we could reproduce in this way first. If it fails, you should be free to engage in a romantic liaison with another who can provide you with an opportunity for biological children."

 

"Annika, I don't want anyone else! I love you."

 

"And I love you. Our association may continue for the time being as it is. I do not want you to commit to someone who cannot give your parents grandchildren . . ."

 

"Yoo, hoo! Seven and Harry!" Tom called out, waving his hand between their faces to draw their attention. "We're still here, you know, and it's getting a little uncomfortable sitting here while you talk about the 'nature of your affiliation.' You might be happier returning to quarters to continue this discussion."

 

"You are right, Tom. We should adjourn to your quarters, Harry, and speak in private about this matter."

 

"Thank you!" B'Elanna muttered _sotto voce_ to her husband as their friends got up and walked away.

 

"You're welcome," Tom said with a smile, which turned into a much more solemn expression after Harry and Seven walked out of the entrance to the holodeck. "Do you think we can get the thing to work?"

 

"We know it did once. A person would definitely result. We just have to figure out a way to make sure it's a cute little Hansen-Kim baby, not a Borg adult. Icheb might be able to help us with that, you know. One was here long before Icheb arrived on _Voyager_ , but Icheb is really good at the DNA stuff. You certainly know that. If anyone can help us make the modifications we need to do to it, he can."

 

Tom nodded his head thoughtfully. "You're right about that. And it might be a good idea to have his help for another reason. This baby would be his baby brother or sister. Seven isn't the only one who has been really down about losing Mezoti. The project might make him feel better, too."

 

"You know, Flyboy. You can be surprisingly sweet when you want to be."

 

"Always ready to oblige, Chief. And you too, Munchkin." Tom tenderly patted B'Elanna's belly, which was just starting to swell. Their baby girl was still barely visible to the general public, but her presence was already a given for her parents. B'Elanna knew Tom had spoken from the heart when he'd told Harry and Seven that the physical aspect of becoming a parent wasn't the only part that had to be addressed. She was really glad, now, about what he hadn't let happen to their precious little girl. If anything, that experience made B'Elanna even more sympathetic to Seven's quandary.

 

They would just have to find a way to help her, that's all.

 

=/\=

 


	4. Feasibility Studies and Unexpected Discoveries

=/\=

 

"An infant sibling? That would be . . . would 'cool' be an appropriate word for it, Lieutenant Paris?"

 

"I think it would be an appropriate vocabulary word, Cadet Icheb. It would be fun -- at first. If you have to get up to help change a diaper or feed the baby in the middle of the night because Seven is on duty, you might think otherwise."

 

Seven's "oldest" grinned as the two couples told him what they planned to do while they all had breakfast in the mess hall the next morning.

 

"Lieutenant, I'm not scheduled for any sessions with Tuvok today until Beta shift. My next assignment in Astrometrics is not until tomorrow. I could start gathering up the dismantled maturation chamber parts. I know where they are. Seven told me they are 'hidden in plain sight,' by being stored with other excess 'Borg' equipment around the perimeter of Cargo Bay Two."

 

"You know, it can't hurt to take an inventory of what we've got. I don't think we ever cannibalized those parts to fix any of our Borg system upgrades, did we, Seven?"

 

"You are correct, B'Elanna. I am sure all the parts for the device are still available, but the individual pieces have been spread out to keep the Borg from recognizing their desirability." 

 

"I'll download  a checklist from the computer into a PADD so we can make sure everything is there before we proceed. It wouldn't hurt to examine the parts, either, to make sure nothing has been damaged since it went into storage."

 

"You know, if I swap shifts with Baytart today, I could help Icheb," Tom mused. "I covered a shift for Pablo last week when he broke his wrist playing hoverball and the Doc made him rest. He owes me."

 

"I'll ask Joe if he can come in to cover Engineering for me today. He wasn't fussy about which day he had off when we made up the schedule the other day. He can take off tomorrow."

 

"Amanda might be willing to cover Ops for me this shift. I think Brian is free late today. If he is, I know she'd rather spend the evening with him than at Ops."

 

"I will ask Megan Delaney if she can come in early. She was assigned to Astrometrics for Beta shift, but Jenny is in the Science Lab during Alpha shift and is off tonight. They usually prefer to keep to the same schedule, if they can."

 

Two hours later, after all the swaps had been made, the five were hard at work on their "inventory" of Borg "replacement parts."

 

After stacking Neelix's spare containers on one side of the bay, the middle of the floor was clear enough for the Borg parts to be moved out of their storage locations and evaluated. B'Elanna was told, in no uncertain terms by Seven, that she had to allow the others lift any of the larger parts. The chief engineer was to sit there and check off the parts from her list.

 

"I'm not an invalid," B'Elanna said sharply.

 

"You've got three big men and a very strong ex-Borg female available to do the heavy lifting. Take advantage, B'Elanna. You can be the boss!" Tom winked at her, and B'Elanna suddenly saw why Seven was being so solicitous with the "pregnant lady."

 

"Fine. Don't complain if I get on your backs the way I do my engineers, though!"

 

For a while the sounds of clanging metal parts as they were lifted or dragged around filled the room. A few of the more sensitive elements had been boxed or stored in crates. While they were careful not to rebuild too much of the mechanism, some of the smaller pieces were attached to where they belonged to prevent them from being lost. By lunchtime, all but three of the parts had been accounted for.

 

"I believe they were stored in a crate the captain put into Cargo Bay One. She thought it would be better to keep at least some of the equipment separate from the rest," Seven informed the others. "I will fetch them."

 

"Don't bother now, Seven. It's time to stop for lunch. I'm getting hungry, even though I've just been sitting here punching a PADD every now and then. You four have been doing all the real work."

 

"No problem, Chief. You're right about having lunch. Do you know what Neelix has on the menu for today?"

 

"I believe he has prepared hair pasta," Icheb answered Tom.

 

"Ick. I'm not a fan. That brings up a lot of bad memories."

 

"What about some nice Nutritional Supplement Number Eight and a loaf of crusty bread? We can use the replicator in here and have an impromptu  picnic," Harry offered.

 

"Seven, have you gotten Harry eating your Nutritional Supplements now, too?"

 

"Hey, it tastes great. I checked with the Doc. He says it's very nourishing for any human to consume. It's a red soup that tastes like gazpacho. And it's a lot better than Neelix's version, believe me."

 

"That's not hard to believe, Har," Tom laughed. "I think gazpacho is one of the recipes Neelix likes to give a little 'Delta Quadrant flair' to by sneaking in leola root. Seven's supplement can't be any worse than the plain tomato soup the replicator _still_ can't seem to get right, either."

 

Everyone agreed to try the lunch Harry suggested. B'Elanna thought it made for a very tasty meal, but she couldn't resist saying slyly, "You're a good cook, Seven."

 

"Thank you. Under Harry's tutelage, I have learned my way around a replicator."

 

"I'm sure Harry has been diligent about teaching you many things, Seven," Tom added.

 

"Ix-nay on the ouble-day entendres, Tom," Harry said. "Little ears are listening."

 

"If you mean my ears, Lieutenant Kim, I do not believe they are very little." Icheb was smiling tolerantly. He was quite used to Tom's quips.

 

"I guess not," Harry admitted, smiling. "Icheb, do you know how old you really are? Even the 24th century maturation chambers seem to accelerate a kid's growth."

 

"I don't really know exactly. I never asked Leucon or Yifay for my birth date. Even if I knew that, I don't know if we would know how the Brunali dates coincided with Federation star dates. Perhaps the captain obtained that knowledge. I know I had friends who said they'd played with me when I was growing up, and they were adolescents like me. I guess I might be sixteen in Earth years. Do you think that's right, Seven?"

 

"I believe that is approximately your age."

 

"I would be much older than an infant sibling, but that happens sometimes in the Federation, doesn't it?"

 

"It does. I had a cousin who was fourteen years older than his younger sister," Harry replied.

 

"You know, Tom, of all of us here, you're the only one who isn't an only child," B'Elanna observed.

 

"That is not exactly true of me," Icheb remarked. "I didn't know One, but once I am adopted, he would be my older brother. Isn't that so, Seven?"

 

"Yes, that is true. And Mezoti, the twins, and Aimee could be considered your  siblings as well, since all of you were in maturation chambers at the same time."

 

"Seven, if that is true, then you aren't an only child, either. The others who were in maturation chambers on your cube would also have been your siblings."

 

"In a way."

 

"I think it is true for me. I have been visiting Marla and Aimee a lot lately. I feel a connection to Aimee." Then he became silent, and B'Elanna knew of the other "sister" he must be thinking about. From the expression she saw now on Icheb's face, B'Elanna could see just how much harder losing Mezoti has been on Icheb than he has been willing to let on --  especially in front of Seven.

 

To fill the pause in the conversation, which threatened to become uncomfortable, B'Elanna said, "Well, Tom will have to give you some pointers about handling siblings when the time comes. He has two sisters, you know."

 

"I can't say I ever really 'handled' Moira and Kathleen. They're older than me, and they pushed me around a lot. Come to think of it, they were almost as bad as my father when it came to ragging me about stuff. God, I miss those two."

 

"You miss them pushing you around?" Icheb asked.

 

"Sure. They taught me -- by example -- all I needed to know about how to push someone's buttons to really get their goat. Too bad I couldn't do it as well as they could to my father. They really got him going sometimes." Tom smiled reminiscently.

 

"I will have to go to you to get some 'pointers' about how to do that, then, Lieutenant Paris."

 

"Icheb, I've told you before, Lieutenant Paris is the Chief Helm Officer. When we're hanging out here, I'm just your friend Tom, like you're Icheb to me instead of 'Cadet Icheb.' Can't you call me Tom?"

 

"I will try. I do not know what Lieutenant Commander Tuvok will say if he hears me do that."

 

"Tuvok will be fine with it, Icheb. And that reminds me, I can teach you how to push his buttons, too. All it takes is a little reprogramming his bridge station to say, 'Live long and prosper," every time he activates it."

 

Harry grimaced, remembering Tuvok's reaction at his promotional dinner, while everyone else laughed, even Seven. It was at that moment that _Voyager's_ First Officer entered Cargo Bay Two.

 

Icheb was the first to notice Chakotay. He quickly stood at attention. The others looked over to see who had entered and merely waved a greeting. "At ease, Cadet. You're not on official Starfleet Academy business right now. Or are you? What's going on here that's caused all the shift swapping that totally remade my bridge staff today?"

 

"We're taking an inventory of our Borg equipment spare parts," Harry answered quickly.

 

"I see." Chakotay looked at the items spread around the floor. He had no trouble recognizing what they were. "Is this project at all connected to our meeting in the conference room yesterday?"

 

After only a moment's pause, Harry answered, "Yes, it is."

 

"Explain."

 

Seven walked over to Chakotay and replied, "Commander, last night we talked about alternative methods of reproduction for me. We will not proceed with any modification of the equipment without the explicit permission of the captain. However, we wanted to make sure all of the parts were available before asking her to give us that permission."

 

"Are you telling me you still want to increase your family?"

 

"Someday, yes, but first we would need to rebuild and modify the maturation chamber so that it would serve to incubate a human infant, not a Borg. That would require some study. It will take time. If all the parts _are_ here, however, we will ask for permission to undertake that study."

 

Harry added, "That's only if the captain is willing to modify her policy about family formation, Commander."

 

"We discussed that policy after the meeting. While Captain Janeway hasn't made an open announcement about it yet, she's decided upon a change. I'm now authorized to provide counseling to any couples who wish to apply for marriage approval. That's why I'm here. I wanted to let the two of you know. I've already notified four other couples, and they've asked me to set up their sessions. I can't tell you who they are, of course, . . . "

 

"Amanda Lang and Brian Larsson. Tabor and Jor. Lucy Swinn and Madge Harper. And maybe . . . " Tom paused, then admitted, "I can't think who the fourth couple would be."

 

"The Bolians, Ensign Golwat and Chell," Seven calmly offered.

 

"Of course," laughed B'Elanna. "Although I feel sorry for Golwat!"

 

"I cannot confirm nor deny," Chakotay said primly, although his chuckle pretty much gave it away. Their guesses were very astute.

 

"Thank you for the information, Commander. B'Elanna, I will go to Cargo Bay One and see if that last crate is there, as we discussed." Seven swept out of the room, with barely a nod of farewell to the first officer.

 

Lunch break was clearly over. While Tom and B'Elanna were helping Icheb recycle the soup containers and other debris from the meal, Harry approached Chakotay. At a whisper, he asked, "Do you think this counseling would be available to a couple if they aren't sure they want to make a change in their relationship status? They just want to find out what they want?" Harry stumbled a little over his next words. "Or, um, maybe just one person who has some, uh, other issues? Like grief."

 

The young officer in front of Chakotay was very solemn. Patting him on the shoulder, the first officer said, "After all that's happened, I'd say you would be wise to come in to talk about your loss, Harry. If that turns into a counseling about changing a couple's marital status down the road, I'd be happy to continue. I'm not a trained counselor, but I've had lots of practice listening to the crew's problems over the past six years. Grieving a loss is frequently the reason someone will come to me. I do what I can to help."

 

"Thank you, Commander. I don't know what Seven will do, but I'd like to come see you and talk things over, whether she wants to come along or not."

 

Chakotay started to leave but had to step aside when Seven reentered her cargo bay carrying a rather large crate. "I have located the missing three components, Lieutenant Torres," she called out. "You may check them off your list."

 

"By the way, I have something to check off my own list," Chakotay announced. Seven halted to put the crate on the floor, but she did not turn around to face him. "Seven, Harry, the captain agrees our 'discussion' yesterday was sufficient in itself. There will be no further recommendations. It's all now on the record though, so . . ." Seven turned to face him then. Her expression lightened momentarily as she comprehended what the commander had not said. Neither Seven nor Harry would receive a demotion or disciplinary action because of her flouting of Starfleet protocols.

 

"Chakotay, just to be clear, Tom and I only agreed to work on this project as a feasibility study. We told Harry and Seven we wouldn't go any further unless they agreed not to take any shortcuts. If it looks like we can modify the equipment to do what we would want it to do, they'll go to the captain before proceeding. No permission, the project ends." All of the others nodded their agreement, although Seven's nod was barely perceptible.

 

"I'm glad to hear that, B'Elanna. I'll inform the captain about the project you'd like to undertake. If that's all right with you, Ensign Hansen and Lieutenant Kim?"

 

The change to official language was noticed by everyone.

 

"Yes, please, Commander," Harry replied. "We'd like you to be the one to let her know. Maybe you should make it our formal request for permission to complete our 'feasibility study.' It might come better from you."

 

"I don't believe she'll mind a 'study' if it's being done on your own time, but I'll let you know if she needs more information first. In the meantime, you may continue with what you're doing, Lieutenants, Ensign, Cadet."

 

Icheb noticed the change in the mood of the room. The surreptitious air was gone. How could the captain possibly object if they were following the rules?

 

=/\=

 

"I don't know about this, Chakotay. Give my permission? They've already started! Didn't that meeting make any impression at all on Seven and Harry?"

 

"Captain, why don't you check this out before getting upset. Harry and Seven, and even Icheb, all look so much better than any of them have looked in a long while. As long as they do as they promised and only tinker with the thing to see if they can change it into a glorified incubator instead of a Borg-making machine, what's the harm? In the process, they might learn something useful to help us the next time the Borg Queen decides to take us on. You know she isn't going to leave us alone. There _will be_ a next time."

 

"Yes, of course I know that." Deeply sighing, she admitted, "It's all spun out of control. I worried about the Kazon and the Hirogen and the Borg and all the external forces that could keep us from getting home. Then we find out Tuvok has been brainwashed to start a Maquis mutiny. We barely get past that and we're bombarded with Klingons looking for their 'kuvah-magh.' And then we're sent a hologram of Lieutenant Barclay that tries to murder us. Forgive me if I'm a little overwhelmed. It just never stops!

 

"In comparison, dragging out a Borg maturation chamber to see if we can get it working and couples asking me if it's all right to 'go to the chapel to get married' are relatively benign events. I guess we'll manage to adapt to this issue, too. Somehow. "

 

"That's the spirit, Kathryn. You know, you might enjoy a trip down to Seven and Icheb's quarters. If nothing else, they're organizing their cargo bay and checking over the equipment instead of just leaving it stacked all around the room. Besides, if you're Seven's 'mom,' then you're going to be 'grandmom' to Icheb very soon. It wouldn't hurt to share some of the abundant wisdom you've gathered to pass on to him from the older generation."

 

"Oh, please! I feel old enough some mornings! Don't add to my misery!" Janeway threw up her hands in mock dismay, but she couldn't hold in the laughter that poured out of her. Chakotay joined in the merriment and continued to chuckle as he exited her ready room.

 

Once she'd brought herself under control, she realized she felt better now, too. Maybe a trip to Cargo Bay Two was an excursion she should take. It wouldn't hurt to let Seven know she was keeping an eye on her, just in case her difficult 'offspring' might be tempted to break the rules again.

 

More soberly, she realized that while Seven would never admit it, she did need emotional support and guidance from time to time. While her lover Harry was providing most of the support to Seven these days, maybe she needed a parental figure to help out, too. Considering the brutal way in which Seven's life with her natural parents had ended, she might need mothering more than most people -- especially if she did succeed in becoming parent to her own baby.

 

Kathryn's own experience in that field was limited to mothering a crew, but she'd grown up in a family with a very loving mother and father. Gretchen and Edward Janeway had led the way, even if she hadn't followed their path to parenthood in an orthodox way. She missed her parents and sister terribly. In the middle of the night, when she was losing sleep over problems she seemed to have no control over, their faces came to mind and provided comfort, helping her manage to go on. Who would Seven envision? Her father, Magnus, who wouldn't listen to his wife when she warned him they'd overstayed their welcome with the Borg? Better it should be Kathryn Janeway, who was a stern taskmaster sometimes, but a warm parental figure at others. This was a time for the warm and loving side of Kathryn. Seven -- and Icheb, too -- needed that now.

 

=/\=

 

"The 'Efficiency Expert?' Why am I not surprised!" Harry exclaimed, giving his love a warm embrace. He chuckled, but very gently. His Annika still looked a little shaky from having her memories restored. Adjusting to life on _Voyager_ might take a bit of time for most of the crew, even Ensign Hansen. "There's one thing I'm sure of. You must have been very, _very_ good at your job."

 

A wisp of a smile appeared. "I was."

 

"Icheb seems to be doing okay."

 

"Yes, he seems to have recovered his memories much more quickly than I did."

 

"He's younger. He had less of them to reintegrate."

 

The smile grew broader. "Undeniably true. It is very funny, Harry. Despite his technical abilities, Icheb did not meet the Quarren's age requirements for working in the power plant. Instead, they put him to work in a day care center. Changing diapers. He took care of Aimee most of every day that Marla worked at the plant. He spent a lot of time with Naomi, too. She came there after her classes, helping out with the babies. He saw both Sam and Marla when they picked up their daughters. Having familiar faces around him, in their normal relationships with each other, might have helped him retrieve his memories faster than the rest of us, who were not around each other in similar capacities. After Tuvok tried to mind meld with me, I suffered from images which disturbed me. It wasn't until 'Amon Kotay' told us who we really were that I realized I was envisioning a Borg cube. I was skeptical of him at first, but in the back of my mind I suspected he could be right. Because of my position, I had access to the plant's personnel records. I learned all of the people from _Voyager_ had been hired on the very same day. One hundred people, hired at the same time? That didn't make sense, with the well-documented labor shortage Quarra was experiencing. I was willing to look into the matter further, and that's how we found out what was really happening."

 

Harry gave her a very close hug. "I can't tell you how upsetting it was to have to search for _Voyager_. It was even worse when we finally found it in the nebula where the Doctor hid it, and then discovered he was the only one there. Annika, I was afraid I'd never see you again. I'm so glad to have you back. All of the crew, but especially you."

 

Seven pulled Harry's face to hers and brushed his lips with hers. Their embrace tightened. No more words came to her. She hadn't remembered him at all, yet at the moment Chakotay told her the truth, she felt an emptiness she could not name. She knew something was missing that she desperately needed. Now, with her memories returned, she realized what she'd felt was a void even deeper than the one from which _Voyager_ had escaped just before she was kidnapped by the Quarrens. Enclosed within Harry's arms, Seven understood why the captain might be reluctant to allow them to bring another child into being. This truly was a dangerous part of the galaxy. Understanding that did not mean she planned to give up on her dream, however. It only made her even more determined to have her own child, and Harry's. Building a family with him had become an obsession.

 

"Harry, my memory is still a little incomplete. How far along in the testing protocols have we come so far? Have we discovered how the chamber works so we can go to the captain for permission to have our baby?"

 

"We were just about ready to go to the captain. Icheb said he wanted to go over the data once more to make sure we hadn't missed anything. He said he'd noticed something about the nanoprobe-generating function, and he wanted to be sure about that before we had our meeting. And then you all disappeared."

 

"Where is Icheb now?"

 

"When I passed him in the corridor, he said he was going to the Science Lab. I guess he wanted to get back to his study of the Borg device."

 

=/\=

 

"Icheb. What do you have for us today?" Captain Janeway waved him into a seat in front of her ready room desk. As Icheb had requested, Chakotay occupied another.

 

"We have finished our feasibility study, Captain. We have completed numerous tests, and we are now confident we can utilize the maturation chamber for the development of my sibling. We've learned how to disengage the 'Borg manufacturing system' so the baby will be a human infant, and no more. His or her development will be much more rapid than in a human womb, but it will take at least three months, and probably four, before the child would be able to survive outside of the device."

 

"That's wonderful, Icheb. Truly a remarkable feat, once what you say is verified. But why have you come by yourself to report this? Shouldn't the rest of your 'feasibility study team' be here, too?"

 

"Captain, I wanted to speak with the two of you alone because I have additional findings to report that have nothing to do with the original purpose of the study." Icheb shifted uneasily in his chair. "It has more to do with the modifications my biological parents made to my DNA and their purpose in doing so."

 

"You're talking about the Borg killing virus," Chakotay said. He knew it was a brutal way to phrase it, but from Icheb's history and what he'd already mentioned, that had to be what Icheb wanted to discuss.

 

The captain had obviously picked up on Icheb's unease, too. Gently, she asked, "What have you discovered, Cadet?"

 

Icheb took a very deep breath. Leaning forward in his chair slightly, he stated, "One of the systems we concentrated upon understanding was how nanoprobes are constructed, from the atoms up to completely formed, miniature machines. We knew we must disable that system in order to use the device to create a human baby. The Doctor's research and Seven's previous knowledge have shown us how to modify nanoprobes, but even in Seven's and my bodies, our systems make them by merely duplicating nanoprobes. It is similar to the creation of blood cells in bone marrow. We aren't creating them from scratch.

 

"Once we unlocked the means by which the maturation chamber created them, I noticed how nanoprobes create Borg implants, particularly the cortical node. That led me to study the system connecting one Borg to another, and then to the Queen. I saw we could create a new weapon against them by disrupting the connections between the Borg."

 

"A new type of virus?"

 

"Perhaps a better term for it would be a neurolytic pathogen. It affects the Borg 'nervous system,' essentially. As it spreads via every Borg vessel's central plexus, it will bring 'chaos to order.' It would be even more efficient than the version we used against the Queen in the matter of Unimatrix Zero."

 

"Would this actually destroy the Borg?"

 

"I cannot say for sure, Captain. I believe that would depend upon where and how the pathogen was delivered. I am quite sure it would be far more devastating to the Borg than any other method that has previously been tried. I studied the ship's logs concerning Species 6339, who infected the viniculum of a Borg vessel before I came aboard _Voyager_. That infection could only be spread by another Borg ship coming to retrieve parts from the destroyed vessel, which the aliens who created it knew the Borg usually do. The infection spreads to the 'rescue ship.' When that one is destroyed, another Borg vessel would come to retrieve parts from it and be destroyed in its turn; and so on. The Borg apparently learned from this experience, however. When my assimilation destroyed the adults on the cube on which you found our 'Children's Collective,' the Borg ordered us to terminate ourselves by destroying our cube. That would have ended the threat to the Collective as a whole, but since we were unable to understand the order, you were able to save us. Unless the Queen sent another vessel to retrieve what they could from our cube, that threat to the Collective must have ended there.

 

"This pathogen is different. It is buried in the carrier wave that transfers the Queen's orders throughout every ship in the Collective. It isn't a virus so much as a total disruption of that communication network. There is a very subtle distortion of the wave which worsens exponentially. If it should reach the Queen herself, it would destroy her ability to order any Borg drone to perform any function. There is also evidence it may damage the mechanical parts of Borg technology through chaotic subatomic vibrations in the wave."

 

After Icheb finished his explanation, the captain's ready room was completely silent while the command team considered the ramifications of what the cadet had just shared. Finally the captain said, "So you're saying this destructive power would be unleashed even without any direct contact by a Borg ship with one that has already been destroyed."

 

"That is correct, Captain. It should not destroy any ships of the Resistance, such as Captain Korok's, who helped save you, Lieutenant Torres, and Commander Tuvok. Any vessels taken over by the Borg who had access to Unimatrix Zero must have disconnected themselves from the Collective in order to achieve their freedom. With that connection broken, they would not receive the neurolytic pathogen. Their ships should be safe."

 

"I see why you wanted to discuss this with us in private, Cadet. It's a lot to take in."

 

"Yes, Captain. If it did not totally destroy the Borg, the Queen would be even more eager to destroy _Voyager_ , if only to prevent this weapon from reaching the Federation."

 

"You haven't shared this information with the rest of the team?" Chakotay asked.

 

"Not yet. I wanted to speak with you first. I suspect if any of them chose to examine my research closely, they would recognize what I found, but I will only share the knowledge openly if you tell me I should."

 

Janeway shared a long look with her first officer before responding, "Icheb, I think you should share it with them, but we'll do it together, in the conference room. How close are you to having the weapon available for use, should we need it to defend ourselves?"

 

Icheb hesitated for a few seconds before saying, "It is already available for use, Captain. I perfected it just before we were captured and taken to Quarra. I simply hadn't had a chance to tell you about it before that occurred. Using this weapon requires the sacrifice of a . . . a 'sacrificial lamb,' I believe it is called. Once that person was assimilated, the pathogen would be sent throughout the Borg system. It would take several minutes before it caused a complete breakdown of order, but I do not believe any of the Borg would realize what was happening until it was too late. The person carrying the pathogen would surely die in the chaos, however."

 

"I see. I'll set up our meeting with the entire team for some time next week. I want to make sure we've all recovered sufficiently from our Quarren interlude before springing this on them. We must include Tuvok, since he's our Weapons and Security Officer and needs to be aware of this. From the way you describe it, this weapon should be used only as a last ditch measure to save ourselves. You're correct in believe that if the Collective was not totally destroyed, the Borg Queen would stop at nothing to gain her revenge on us. Icheb, I'm sure I don't need to tell you that this entire matter must be treated with the utmost level of confidentiality. No one, other than your team, Tuvok, and the commander and me, can know anything about this."

 

"I understand, Captain. You can count on my silence."

 

She smiled warmly at him then, relieving the solemn moment just a little. "And Icheb, after Tuvok learns of this, I'm sure he'll agree with me that you deserve a commendation for your 'research work.' It's really too bad we can't allow anyone else know exactly what your research entails!'

 

Chakotay grinned. "Perhaps we can say it is for 'the creative modification of Borg systems which will benefit the crew of _Voyager_.' When you approve the modified maturation chamber for Seven's use, Captain, everyone will think that's what it's for."

 

"Commander! Are you now insisting I give my permission to Seven and Harry to use it?" The laughter in her voice removed any negative connotations the words themselves might have delivered.

 

Icheb said shyly, "I wouldn't mind being rewarded with a sibling, Captain."

 

"Everybody wants to do my job! All right, Cadet. I can see I'm being maneuvered into allowing this very unorthodox means of increasing a family. Please, say nothing to anyone else about this for now. I'll announce it at the end of next week's meeting. We'll need to lighten the mood by then, I'm sure."

 

All three arose from their seats. Icheb gave a very sharp Starfleet Academy salute to his superiors before he left the ready room.

 

Janeway leaned heavily on her desk after the door had slid shut. Her mood had turned suddenly bleak.

 

"What's the matter, Kathryn? Are you still so against Seven having a child?"

 

"That's not it, Chakotay. Didn't you hear the subtext in Icheb's mentioning a 'sacrificial lamb?' I have no doubt that if we should need a volunteer to fulfill that appalling function, Icheb will be first in line."

 

=/\=

 


	5. Gains and Losses

=/\=

 

"Great party, Neelix!"

 

"A happy occasion always brings out the best in this morale officer, don't you agree, Tom? What did you like best?"

 

"That Bajoran hors d'oeuvre, _hasperat_? You did a great job with that. All the food was really top notch." Tom chose not to mention that the entire menu had been catered via the replicator, with nary a Delta Quadrant selection in sight, as he accepted a piece of Jor and Tabor's wedding cake from Naomi. "How are you going to top yourself for Amanda and Brian's wedding next week?"

 

"We've got a wonderful menu planned. Larsson is Swedish, and Lang comes from New Orleans, so we're going to blend Scandinavian and Cajun foods. I'm really looking forward to that combination."

 

"Hmm. Interesting. Swedish meatballs and crawfish étouffée? That would be quite a combination."

 

"Why, yes, Tom. We're having both of those dishes. I never knew you were so familiar with ethnic cooking."

 

"Neelix, I was raised in San Francisco. You can get just about anything there. Even _hasperat_! There's this great Bajoran place down by Fisherman's Wharf. They even make a soufflé from _hasperat_. Absolutely delicious."

 

"Really? That sounds great! I wonder if I can add a little Delta Quadrant flair to my own version of that soufflé . . . "

 

"You'd better lay off too much of that cake, Tom. Your midsection is already showing signs of a sympathetic pregnancy belly," B'Elanna advised, swooping in between her husband and Neelix. Snagging a bit of frosting with her pinkie, she lapped it up with a rather suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

 

"One piece is my limit, Chief. Neelix and I were just talking about next week's big affair. Neelix has a fascinating menu planned."

 

"Wonderful."

 

"I was really disappointed you wanted such a small affair when the two of you 'tied the old knot,' as the old Earth saying goes. I've been studying up on Alpha Quadrant slang, you know. I want to be ready once we get there! You know, I would have loved to make a banana pancake wedding cake for you, B'Elanna. With chocolate frosting, maybe?"

 

"Perhaps for another occasion, like our little girl's first birthday party?"

 

"Wonderful! I'll make a note of it. Excuse me, but I think I have to add a little more 'bubbly' to the beverage fountain." Patting Tom on the back and nodding to B'Elanna, Neelix stepped away to do his duty as caterer and maître d' for the wedding reception.

 

"A banana pancake birthday cake?"

 

"Actually, it might be really good. When Neelix works the replicator for his dishes, they're usually first rate. Surely you've noticed. You ate enough of that _hasperat_."

 

Tom chuckled. "That I did."

 

B'Elanna licked a last bit of frosting from Tom's plate and sighed contentedly. She'd had only a tiny slice of cake herself, and she was peeved when she saw her piece didn't have any frosting on it at all. Slipping her arm underneath her husband's, she said in a very low voice, and with a serious edge, "After the meeting yesterday, I was really in the mood for a party to cheer me up."

 

"It was good news for Harry and Seven, at least. They can move on to the next baby-making step. Not that 'sperm donor' will be quite as much fun for Harry as it was for me."

 

"True. Rolling around in bed is lots more fun than filling up a test tube! I just wish Seven would finally decide to marry Harry. The captain looked really frustrated when Seven insisted she wanted to have her baby in her arms before consenting to any change in their relationship status. You know, Tom, if anyone else but Seven took that position, the captain would have withdrawn permission right there."

 

"It's odd, but I think something else was going on that we don't know about. The captain kept looking over at Icheb when Seven was telling her she wanted a baby but didn't want to get married yet. Maybe Icheb made some sort of deal with the captain. I can't put my finger on what it could be, though. Icheb isn't spilling." Tom decided not to mention his suspicion that the other subject of the meeting, which stunned the team when Icheb revealed the weapon he'd created, could easily be the source of that deal.

 

B'Elanna sighed. "Poor Harry. I know he's afraid she'll never marry him."

 

"I have a hunch she will, though. Eventually. Seven can be impulsive and take matters into her own hands, but I'm sure she feels something with Harry that she doesn't have with anyone else. Her single-mindedness is a carryover from her Borg days. Harry says Seven often needs to see something happen in a very concrete way before realizing just how she _does_ feel about something."

 

"I hope you're right, Tom. He'll be devastated if she drops him after the baby arrives."

 

"You know Harry, the Upstanding One. He says he'll still be the father and stay close, no matter what his relationship is with Seven."

 

"If she lets him."

 

"As Naomi likes to say, 'It's a small ship.' I don't know how she'll be able to stop him from being close to his own kid!"

 

"I guess you're right. It is hard to get away from anyone else on _Voyager_ unless you hide out in your own quarters."

 

"Spaeaking of which . . . we could adjourn to our quarters. Or maybe we could hook one more slice of cake to share inside the _Delta Flyer_. 'Whattaya say we bust outta here,' Chief?"

 

"Gangster movies on the television again, Tom?"

 

"Maybe a few."

 

"Well, okay. 'Let's split this joint in two and get out of this burg.' Or something like that."

 

Tom laughed. "Something like that, sure. But first, cake."

 

=/\=

 

The technology was, in fact, not new. Conception via petri dish had been possible for centuries. Usually, mothers such as Mary Kim had experienced multiple failed pregnancies before using the method as a last resort. In Seven's case, her physiology's inability to carry a baby to term had been definitively identified after one miscarriage. The former Borg was absolutely determined that this second attempt at conceiving a child, albeit from an alternative method, would be successful.

 

"We can remove multiple eggs from your ovaries at the same time, freeze them, and try again if the first attempt is unsuccessful, Ensign Hansen," the Doctor announced to his patient and the "other half of the baby-making team," as he'd so unctuously dubbed Harry. "Or you could consider a multiple birth. Twins, perhaps?"

 

"Not without a second maturation chamber, Doctor. It is designed to nourish and protect only one child at a time."

 

"Ah. Oh well. One at a time would undoubtedly be wise, under the circumstances."

 

"Since the captain has only authorized us to have one child right now, Doc, it's not only wise, it's compulsory," Harry pointed out.

 

"Quite true. What about the option of freezing the additional . . ."

 

"One egg, Doctor. We trust the entire system will work the way it's supposed to the first time we utilize it. If it does not, we will consider other options at the time of any subsequent attempt."

 

The Doctor submitted to the orders of the "baby-making team." One egg. One attempt. As it turned out, once was enough. The "experiment" was a success. Six days later, one male human zygote was introduced into his temporary home. His cells immediately began to divide and grow at a noticeably advanced rate. The Doctor was very pleased. Icheb was delighted. Harry was cautiously optimistic. And Seven of Nine, A.K.A. Ensign Annika Hansen, worried. As she later told her friend the chief engineer, "I'm glad it should only take half the time for a normal human gestation to take place before our son is born. I will be apprehensive until he is here and I can hold him in my arms."

 

B'Elanna replied, "From all I've heard, the worry quotient will _really_ kick in once he's here. Trust me. This is all just a practice run."

 

=/\=

 

"Here again, Harry?" Tom's words were spoken in question form, but the tone of voice was that of someone stating a fact.

 

"As usual, Mr. Paris. Lieutenant Kim is luxuriating in the miracle of a new life being formed, quite literally before our eyes. He is getting to be a cute little tyke, isn't he? And such a big boy already. I'm sure you're envious of Mr. Kim's ability to see his child's formation when your view of your own daughter must be through scans."

 

Tom rolled his eyes at Harry, who shook his head. The Doc was on a roll today.

 

"Miral will be here soon enough, Doc. I have to admit it's fascinating to watch baby boy Kim/Hansen or Hansen/Kim develop through the window, though. It lets me imagine how my little girl is developing, too."

 

"Ah, yes, a name. Have you and Ensign Hansen decided on what will appear on his birth registration certificate yet?"

 

"Not exactly."

 

"You can't put it off indefinitely, you know. I have an extensive list of names you may borrow for your consideration."

 

"Doc, do you really want to get into this now? Unless you've chosen your own name while I wasn't looking, I don't think you're one to talk about the subject."

 

"Hmmph. I was only trying to be of service, Mr. Paris."

 

"Thanks for the offer, Doc. Seven and I will be discussing it very soon," Harry quickly said, intervening before the EMH and Tom could get into another sniping episode.

 

Placated, the EMH announced, "If it is all right with you, Mr. Paris, I will be going off duty now. I'll be on Holodeck Two for my singing lesson with Maestro Farinelli. I believe you've heard of him. He's a very famous 22nd century opera instructor. Nothing medical to report at the moment, other than the need to continue our usual observation of our gestating infant. The crew has been remarkably free of any medical issues today."

 

"Thanks, Doc. I'll take over from here. Enjoy your lesson with the Maestro."

 

The EMH shimmered away as he transferred his program directly onto the holodeck. Tom and Harry exchanged relieved glances. "I guess we can speak freely now. More or less. I never know whether the Doctor has any sort of listening or recording devices in operation when I'm on duty. He keeps telling me he has to keep a close eye on me."

 

"Nah, he trusts you, Tom. If he didn't, he would never have agreed to leave us for a whole month to treat Dr. Zimmerman on Jupiter Station last year."

 

Tom shrugged his shoulders. Actually, he agreed with Harry's assessment. That was a wild month, when the captain located little Aimee's grandmother. It had been a stressful time for Marla Gilmore, who had cared for and loved Aimee ever since the baby had been released from her maturation chamber on the doomed "Children's Collective" Borg cube. It all worked out great in the end for them. The Bardarean woman agreed to allow Marla to adopt her granddaughter.

 

Tom quickly reviewed the status of Harry's son in the massive maturation chamber. According to Seven, this 29th century model took up a lot more space than the ones on current-day Borg cubes. "He's doing fine, Harry, just like the Doc said. It looks like the rate of growth is finally beginning to slow a little bit, too. The Doc thinks it's going to take at least another two months before he's ready to be born. That should be right after our Miral is born -- if the Doc is right about B'Elanna's delivery date."

 

"Yeah, he's told us that."

 

"You don't look very happy about it. Do you want him to come sooner? Or later?"

 

Harry hastened to say, "Oh, it's nothing like that Tom. He'll come when he's ready, I'm sure of that. I'm trying to adjust to this whole crazy situation. I still feel a little stunned the captain let us do this, especially since Seven is holding out on the marriage front."

 

Tom sat casually on one of the biobeds. "Harry, we've been over this a couple of times now. You aren't 'just a sperm donor.' You have a very close and loving relationship with Seven. The sperm delivery system had to be modified, just like this honking monstrosity of a maturation chamber had to take the place of Seven's biological womb. Both of you are still the little guy's parents, though. It's going to be okay once he's here. Trust me!"

 

Harry smiled ruefully and sighed, "Thanks for the pep talk, Tom. I do know that. It's just that I'd rather have been able to get her pregnant by frolicking on the holodeck in Tahiti, having sex while she's hooked up to the regenerator. That would have been a lot more fun than the actual 'donation' process was."

 

"Of course it would have been more fun. But you already know that way can't work out for the two of you."

 

Harry sighed again. "I know. This was the only way, so I'm okay with it. I'm willing to do anything for Seven to make her happy. I love her, Tom."

 

"I know."

 

The two friends fell silent for a few minutes. Tom wanted to lighten the mood, but he wasn't sure if joking around was appropriate just then. Casting around for a subject that would be more upbeat, he finally asked Harry, "So, have you been talking to the little guy? That's important, according to all the literature. We put in a microphone system for that very reason, you know."

 

"I never know what to say, exactly."

 

"Hey, tell him jokes. Read to him from a tech manual. Play him some music on your clarinet. Actually, the music might be best. It's supposed to help a child develop mathematical concepts. Anything, really. Don't tell the Doc, but B'Elanna and I have been playing classical music to Miral a lot of the time. Even opera. Come to think of it, the Doc probably sings to your little guy a lot of the time, too. By the way, do you have any idea who this Maestro Farinelli is?"

 

"Not a clue," Harry laughed.

 

"That makes me feel better. Anyway, to get back to Field Medic Paris' advice to expectant fathers, when you've got 'one in the oven,' like both of us have -- you more literally than me, actually -- it's a good time to begin to bond as a family. It's especially neat for you because you can actually monitor him through his window. I hate to say it, but the Doc was right about another thing, too. If you'd picked out a name for the little guy instead of just calling him 'the little guy,' it might be easier to talk to him."

 

"I'll talk it over with Seven. Maybe we can come up with a first name, anyway. My father's family has a tradition of using several names that turn up in every generation, either as a first or a middle name. Maybe Seven would consider giving him one of them."

 

"That's a good idea."

 

Tom turned around when he heard the Sickbay door swish open, preparing to provide medical care as needed. None would be necessary this time, however.

 

"Hi, Icheb. Come to visit your little brother?" Tom said. "Step right up. He's busy growing right over here."

 

"Hi, Harry, and Mr. Paris. I should call you that because you're on duty now, right?"

 

"That is my lot in life this shift," Tom sighed overdramatically.

 

Icheb smiled, just as Tom hoped. He thought the kid needed to have a little more fun in his life. He was all work, study, work -- a lot like his adoptive mother, actually. Sliding off the biobed he'd been sitting on while talking with Harry, Tom waved the cadet over to the viewing window to see the baby. As Harry stood up next to Icheb, he rested his arm over Icheb's shoulder. When he saw that, Tom felt warm, nostalgic memories steal over him. His sisters used to bug him lots of the time, but he remembered Moira and Kathleen giving him hugs and comforting him when his father had yelled at Tom for some failing or another. On more than one occasion, they kept their father from knowing something Tom had done which might have resulted in punishment for their brother. A kid was really lucky to have brothers or sisters. Even though he hadn't seen either of his in almost ten years, Tom was glad he had them. With this new "Operation Watson" system his dad and Lieutenant Barclay had set up, he might finally get a chance to speak with them again soon -- even if their conversation would only last for three minutes.

 

Leaving the little family to their bonding exercise, Tom went into the Doc's office to review the EMH's log entries about his most recent patients. Several minutes later, Tom heard two voices emanating from the main area of Sickbay, performing a very old song he'd heard before. Although Harry and Icheb's voices tended to wander around the melody a bit instead of singing it in tune, the way the Seven and the Doc did whenever they sang it, Tom didn't think it would matter to the 'little guy' floating in the tank in Sickbay. Tom's own eyes got a bit misty as he listened:

 

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,

You make me happy when skies are gray . . . "

 

=/\=

 

First Contact Day was far more eventful than usual this year. In the middle of Neelix's cheese pierogi and rock and roll extravaganza, Chakotay informed the crew of a major surprise: sensors had detected Talaxian life signs, more than 30,000 light years from Neelix's home planet. Tom, Neelix, and Tuvok flew the _Delta Flyer_ into an asteroid belt, which seemed to be the source of the readings. There were, indeed, Talaxians living inside an asteroid. Like Neelix, they had left Talax to find another home, where they could live free and not be dominated by the race which conquered their world.

 

"Dexa is very pretty, Neelix," Tom observed. "And Brax seems like a very smart kid."

 

"If I stay with them I won't be able to make that banana pancake birthday cake for your daughter's first birthday," Neelix said sadly.

 

"That's okay. B'Elanna and I understand. You can make a cake for Brax's next birthday instead, and I'll bet nobody in that colony is going to complain if you add a little of the old 'Delta Quadrant flair' to the flavorings."

 

Nodding appreciatively, Neelix replied, "I guess not. Maybe I'll add a few 'Alpha Quadrant spices' to some of my dishes."

 

"That's the spirit," Harry said, adding, "That colony needs you, Neelix. You know that. You've learned a lot from the captain and Chakotay in the past six years. I'll bet you'll be able to negotiate a settlement with those miners in no time."

 

The three were sitting in the lounge area of the mess hall. Tom and Harry found Neelix there, making a nostalgic visit to his kitchen one last time as he prepared to leave _Voyager_ forever. I'm going to miss everyone, you know, but I'll especially miss you both. We had some great times, didn't we?"

 

"We did at that, Neelix." Tom tried to put a vision of a plate of hair pasta splashed all over his uniform out of his mind. How long ago that seemed now, when Neelix had been so possessive about his then-girlfriend Kes. His jealousy about Tom's attraction to her was very perceptive. Tom _had_ been attracted to her at the time, but he also knew better than to poach another person's love. Kes was long gone now. Tom had B'Elanna. After catching sight of the lovely Talaxian lady on the asteroid, Tom was pretty sure Neelix had found a new and far more permanent love with her than he could have had with Kes. Because of the Ocampan's very short life span, she would have been a fairly old lady by now if she hadn't left _Voyager_. Neelix should have a better chance for happiness with someone like Dexa.

 

But losing Neelix was even worse than saying good-bye to Kes had been. Neelix had been there during Tom and B'Elanna's epic, life-changing adventure on the Sakari world. After they'd cleared the air over Kes, Neelix had become almost as good a friend to Tom as Harry was. All Tom could say, however, was, "I'm really going to miss you, too."

 

"It's a bit like Mezoti said to Seven and me, that last time we were able to communicate with her. It would be great if you could stay with Dexa and Brax but still come along with us. But there's only one of you. You had to choose. And Neelix," Harry said with great sincerity, "I know you've made the right one."

 

"Thanks, Harry. I guess it's time for me to go. I'll just make one last trip around the kitchen, to soak up a few last memories, if that's okay with you."

 

"Sure, Neelix." Harry and Tom got out of the chair and left Neelix alone in the room that had been his domain for the past several years.

 

When Neelix left the mess hall to walk to the Shuttle Bay where his ship the _Baxial_ had been stored, most of the crew lined the corridors at attention, bidding him good-bye. Neelix took one additional memory with him. Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, who had been unwilling to dance at the First Contact Day party the way the first Vulcan to meet humans was said to have done, did a little soft-shoe for Neelix when he reached the entrance to the shuttle bay.

 

During a communication with Seven later on, Neelix told her that as wonderful as being named the permanent Federation ambassador in the Delta Quadrant by Captain Janeway was, that memory of Tuvok's little dance was the best thing about his last day as a member of the crew of _Voyager_.

 

=/\=

 

Tom couldn't stop himself from ducking as the Borg cube swept over _Voyager_ , so close that if there had been any sort of old-style antenna on top of the ship like on the cars Tom had programmed on the holodeck, it would have been clipped off by the passing cube. "That was close," was all Tom could say.

 

"Get us out of here, Mr. Paris. NOW!" the captain ordered.

 

Once he'd set a course in the opposite direction, at maximum warp, Tom stole a glance at Ops. Harry's face was grim. Icheb's wormhole detector had led them here, to a nebula punctured with so many wormholes, it was almost like Swiss cheese. One of those wormholes promised to cut their journey home to the Alpha Quadrant by years, maybe even decades. Unfortunately, the Borg knew about those wormholes, too. The nebula was littered with their vessels. It was impossible for _Voyager_ to get close enough to use them.

 

"Harry, don't take it so hard," Tom told his friend as they were leaving the bridge. It was at the end of what was, fortunately, an uneventful shift once they'd left the nebula. No new threats from the Borg, or any other alien race, had surfaced during their headlong flight away from the wormhole area.

 

"Tom, we were so close. I could almost taste my mom's apple pie. Maybe our kids could have been born in the Alpha Quadrant! Do you think we should approach the captain about a mission, just you and me in the _Delta Flyer_ , to see if we could find a safe way through one of those . . . "

 

"Harry, Harry, Harry! We both have babies on the way. Yours is in a maturation chamber already, but I have no wish for Miral to spend any time in one! I've got to go to my wife and make sure she's not having false labor pains again. Or maybe even the real thing this time. Go see your little guy in Sickbay, if you need to remind yourself just how careful you need to be right now. The risks are just too great."

 

Harry sighed. "I know you're right, Tom, but to be so close to home! Even if we didn't land in the Alpha Quadrant itself, we could have chopped years off the journey! It just isn't fair."

 

"Who ever said life is fair, Harry? Not me, I assure you."

 

=/\=


	6. Of Endings and Beginnings

=/\=

 

"Senior officers to the bridge." The red alert signal sounded as the captain's order sped throughout _Voyager_. In Sickbay, the Doctor quickly activated the stand-by emergency power system for the maturation chamber, just in case the regular system was disrupted by any action taken by the ship. This close to the little boy's time to be born, the Doctor would not take any chances.

 

This time, the alert had not been triggered by the close approach of a Borg vessel. A ship was approaching, ready to burst out of a spatial rift which had formed in front of _Voyager_. Surprisingly, the vessel fleeing towards them was accompanied by weapons fire with a Klingon signature. The vessel hailed _Voyager_. The voice coming over the hail was achingly familiar, if deeper and huskier in tone. Kathryn Janeway was shocked, but when the voice ordered _Voyager_ to fire on the rift, to close it and block the pursuing ship from approaching _Voyager_ , too, the captain complied with only a little hesitation.

 

Captain Janeway's double appeared on the viewscreen. She wore an admiral's uniform, and a face aged markedly from the one confronting Kathryn in the mirror each day, but there was no doubt who she was. As the admiral demanded her younger self to beam her aboard, the captain could not avoid that sinking feeling: another temporal headache was about to commence, unless Captain Braxton would appear quickly enough to save her from the pain.

 

No such luck today.

 

=/\=

 

"I've come to take you home."

 

"Admiral, we can't go home that way. Those wormholes are crawling with Borg. It's simply not safe.

 

"It's safer than what will happen to you if you don't try to use it. It took my _Voyager_ a total of twenty-tree years to get home. In the next seventeen years, you're going to lose more of your crew. If you go home now, those lives will be saved."

 

"If the Borg get us, all 147 members of this crew will be assimilated, along with four 'passenger' children. I will not risk all of them just for an easier trip home. And how do I know you really are who you say you are?"

 

"Can't you see the resemblance?" the admiral snapped. "If you don't believe me, have the Doctor examine me. He'll confirm my identity."

 

"Yes, do that. You do remember the way, don't you?"

 

"I'll manage." The admiral swept regally out of the ready room.

 

The captain collapsed at her desk. Her head, as anticipated, was pounding, but she would let the Doctor finish his examination before going to Sickbay to seek his help. Perhaps this Janeway wasn't what she seemed. This might be some other sort of phenomenon. They'd encountered stranger things in the Delta Quadrant. Maybe this was just one more.

 

=/\=

 

"Well, Doctor?"

 

"Captain Kathryn Janeway, meet Admiral Kathryn Janeway. Your genetically identical twin, just a few years older. "

 

"How kind you are not to specify the number, Joe," the admiral said.

 

"Joe?"

 

"Never mind."

 

The sliding doors opened to admit three other crew members: a lieutenant j.g., an ensign, and a cadet. The admiral's eyes closely followed all three as they walked over to the large maturation chamber in the corner of Sickbay. After hesitating for a minute to allow them to speak softly to the infant in the chamber, she followed them into the corner.

 

"Visiting the youngest member of your family?" the admiral asked Harry.

 

"Whenever we can," Harry replied, smiling at his captain's doppelganger.

 

"He's going to be a beautiful boy," she said. With a very wistful expression, the admiral looked upon each one of them in turn, including the maturation chamber's occupant. The Doctor was briefly tempted to ask the admiral about the little one's future. What was he doing when she left her own time? The boy would be a young man, well into his twenties by then. But the sad look on her face stopped him. He quickly decided he didn't want to know how she would answer that question.

 

Once that thought occurred to him, the EMH glanced over to his captain. From her silence and expression, which matched the admiral's far too well, she seemed to have come to the same conclusion he had. Sometimes it was better not to know.

 

=/\=

 

"It's just too dangerous."

 

"I can help you get through the hub."

 

"You didn't use it to get home, did you?

 

The admiral paced the ready room for several long moments before admitting, "And I cannot tell you how many times I regretted that decision. I lost so many more of my people by extending our journey for so many years. If I had gone through that hub, those lives would have been saved!"

 

"Not if the Borg had assimilated all of you!"

 

"Very true. We can change history now, my 'younger self.' I've brought you tools to use to help you get through that weren't available to me. Advanced weaponry. Ablative shielding. Cloaking technology! You'll succeed where I failed."

 

"Seven has examined your cloaking technology. It isn't compatible with _Voyager's_ current systems. If it were, I'd be tempted to go along with your plea to go through the hub. If the Borg can't detect us, I can see we might be successful. It isn't, so I can't go along."

 

The admiral sighed. "Captain, let me tell you what happened to Seven's lovely family on my _Voyager_. Three years from now, Ensign Hansen will go on an away mission that goes spectacularly wrong. She made it back just in time to die in her husband's arms. Two years after that, we encountered a cluster of Borg cubes. They were going to catch us. We used that 'last resort' weapon Cadet Icheb had developed. The volunteer who delivered that weapon was Ensign Icheb Hansen. I didn't want to let him go, but he begged me to allow him to do this for _Voyager_. For his little brother, so he could grow up with his father, Harry Kim. The only other volunteer was my First Officer, and I needed Chakotay available to take command of _Voyager_ if something should happen to me.

 

"We lost Icheb that day. The weapon worked against the Borg, but apparently the Borg Queen was able to cut off the connection to her and the rest of the Collective before the infection spread. We hoped we could stop the Borg that day, but they're still causing us trouble. You know what I do now? I'm an 'expert' instructor at Starfleet Academy, teaching classes in how to fight the Borg, because we're _still_ fighting them."

 

"What happened to Icheb's little brother?" The captain's voice shook, because the chill down her spine warned her that that story wasn't going to be a happy one, either.

 

"Three years after we lost Icheb, we encountered the Chareska Alliance. Brutal warriors. Their attack killed five of our people on the first day we met them. One of them was the boy. He was only eight years old. And with that, Harry's family was decimated."

 

Hollowly, the captain asked, "And Harry himself?"

 

"Oh, he's still alive. He was one of the people who helped me get here. He's captain of the _Rhode Island_. One of those lifetime 'loneliness of command' captains. You know the type. Married to his career. I'm another one. That's the way you're headed, too. Harry has never recovered from the loss of his family. He's not a very happy man, I can tell you that. I'd love to change that for him."

 

"Who else didn't make it?"

 

"Joe Carey won't get home. Neither will Tal Celes or Mortimer Harren. I remember the detail of every loss, but it's too painful for me to list them all for you, Captain. I will say the last one who died before getting home was one of the hardest for me to endure. Chakotay's grave on Earth is empty. We couldn't recover his body, you see. I visit it from time to time anyway. I like to think his spirit is there, even if his bones never made it back."

 

The comment the admiral had made when she met Chakotay, "Glad to see you, Commander," made too much sense now.

 

"By the way, has Tuvok told you about the _fal-tor-voh_ yet?"

 

"The _fal_. . . what?"

 

"I see he hasn't. I didn't think so. The Doctor didn't tell me about it until after we lost Icheb. Tuvok couldn't hide his condition after that. The _fal-tor-voh_ is a neurological disease that destroys the Vulcan mind. The patient can be healed if it's caught in time, but the only cure must be given through mind melds with a blood relative, under the supervision of monks at a temple on Vulcan. Tuvok's condition  had advanced too far by the time we got home. He's in a Starfleet care center on Earth. I visit him regularly." The admiral ascended the ready room steps and looked out upon the stars. "I said good-bye to him when I left. I knew I wasn't likely to ever return -- unless Captain Braxton showed up and dragged me back. I'll do whatever I can to keep him from the awful fate of a Vulcan who has literally lost his mind." She turned around to face the captain, her form silhouetted by the stars flowing by behind her. "I can't fail him. What else do I have to do to convince you this is the only way to proceed?"

 

Stepping up to face her double, the captain responded,  "You're here. You've survived the Borg."

 

"But at such a price! Captain Kathryn Janeway, how many other people have died at their hands all over this galaxy, not just here on _Voyager_. I don't know if you'll still have to fight the Borg if you do manage to change history and get home. But you have to try! The Federation Temporal Police be damned! I'm telling you, it's worth the risk."

 

Two faces, almost identical, apart from a few wrinkles, more or less, and the aureoles of hair surrounding those faces: one was still auburn, the other had gone totally white. The younger of the two wondered when that hair changed color so radically. Was it a gradual change, or did it happen all at once? Was it when Seven died? Icheb? Chakotay? She longed to ask the question but found she could not. She didn't want to know.

 

"If we do try this, what makes you think we would be successful? How can we get past an entire flotilla of Borg ships without being captured or destroyed?"

 

"Do you recall what Icheb said when he first told you about the pathogen he'd invented?"

 

"I've never been able to forget it. He was sure it would work, but how well would depend on where and how it was delivered."

 

"Exactly. That hub is the key. It will take us just about anywhere in mere minutes. We need to get to a more vulnerable spot than my Icheb was able to reach."

 

"You have a destination in mind?"

 

"I've spent years of sleepless nights thinking about that very question. I believe I know just the place. Are you ready to get your crew moving on making the modifications to this vessel that can make a difference?"

 

The two stared at each other for a very long minute before the captain gave the admiral the one-word answer she'd been hoping for.

 

=/\=

 

"Take her in, Mr. Paris," the captain ordered.

 

The ablative shielding brought by the admiral worked as well as she'd touted. The transphasic torpedoes Tuvok fired blew up the cubes following them. Weapons from two decades in the future were more than the Borg of this present day could handle. As they entered the transwarp hub, many of the Borg vessels began to explode even though Tuvok had not yet opened fire on them. The captain and Commander Chakotay looked at each other. The admiral must have been successful in delivering the neurolytic pathogen. One Borg sphere, however, had not exploded and was about to catch them.

 

"Change course, Tom!"

 

"Aye, aye, Captain."

 

It was the command he'd been anticipating ever since this whole crazy scenario was explained to him. As the sphere drew _Voyager_ inside itself, Tom prayed that everything would go according to plan. B'Elanna wasn't at the engineering station. She was in Sickbay with the Doctor, having their baby. Tom was frantic to see his wife and hold his daughter in his arms, but first, they had to do what Admiral Janeway had promised.

 

They had to beat the Borg.

 

=/\=

 

The hastily assembled task force of Starfleet ships, under the command of Admiral Owen Paris, had taken position around the point in space where a transwarp aperture was on the verge of opening. When it did, a Borg sphere literally exploded into Alpha Quadrant space. The task force awaited the order to open fire on the Borg.

 

The order never came. Before the admiral could draw his breath to give it, a ship within that exploding sphere crashed through the cloud of sparkling debris that came from that vessel, along with the final meters of the transwarp conduit through which it had just traveled. Only the ship that had been within the Borg vessel was still intact.

 

 _Voyager_ had finally made it home.

 

=/\=

 

Everyone on _Voyager's_ bridge momentarily froze in place. No one could utter a word as the enormity of what they had accomplished finally sank in. The constellations visible behind the armada before them on the viewscreen were familiar, even though none of the bridge officers had seen them in almost seven years.

 

"On screen," the captain said, answering the hail from the lead ship of the armada. Admiral Paris looked and sounded just as stunned as they all were.

 

They replied to his welcome with an apology. "Sorry we didn't call ahead."

 

Before the admiral could respond, a baby's cry came over _Voyager's_ com system. Tom grinned as the Doctor said, "There's someone who wants to meet you, Lieutenant."

 

As Tom turned to be dismissed from the helm, a beeping sound was heard coming over the channel connection from Sickbay. "Ensign Hansen! Mr. Kim! I need you both in Sickbay immediately. The maturation chamber is sounding an alarm. Icheb is already here. He believes your baby is ready to be born today, too!"

 

=/\=

 

Carefully, with Icheb's help, Seven opened the door of the maturation chamber. "You'll have to pull him out quickly, Seven. I can see the placenta is detaching from its mooring," the Doctor said excitedly. "He needs to get into the air and start breathing. Make sure the airway is open . . ."

 

The scream of the second baby born in Sickbay that day erupted from a tiny mouth. Harry held out the blanket to wrap around his son. Seven transferred him into Harry's arms while the Doctor deftly tied off and cut the umbilical cord, detaching the baby from the mechanical womb which had enclosed him for several months. Icheb responded to another command by the Doctor and wheeled the newborn's cart next to the maturation chamber. Gently, the Doctor took the baby from Harry. Placing the infant on the cart, the Doctor checked him over while the anxious parents and big brother looked on.

 

"That's the second successful delivery today. I'm showing quite a flair for obstetrics this week. If you'd like to clean up your baby now, feel free, Ensign Hansen."

 

The Doctor stepped aside, giving the mother a chance to care for her baby for the first time. His birth was unconventional, incubated, as he was, for virtually his entire gestation in a Borg device. Her face glowed with pleasure as she wiped the tiny head dry of the artificial amniotic fluid that had bathed him during gestation and washed away the vernix which had protected his skin while he floated within the Borg mechanism. The infant continued to cry lustily, expressing his displeasure at being removed from his comfortable liquid bed. Not a smidgeon of metallic implant was visible anywhere on his body. He was a perfectly formed human male, and very clearly his own individual person. Seven leaked a little fluid from her right eye, just as salty as that which had surrounded her son up until a few minutes before. When she had wrapped another clean, dry blanket around her boy, Seven raised her eyes to the baby's father and smiled. "He's perfect. His eyes are almond shaped, Harry. Just like yours."

 

"It's a little hard to tell that yet, isn't it?"

 

"Actually, I took the liberty of doing a projection of what he would look like at the age of twelve, as I had with young Miss Paris over there. His eyes will definitely be like yours, Lieutenant. They're blue now, but the genes for brown eye color are present . . ."

 

"Doctor. Why don't you let them have a family moment together. Alone!" Tom called over from the other side of Sickbay, where his own little family was having their first moments together.

 

Icheb pulled a chair over for Seven. She picked up her baby and sat down in it, gently rocking back and forth. She was oblivious to her movements. Instinct had taken over.

 

After several minutes in which only the murmurs that new parents make over their infants could be heard, the Doctor could no longer resist from commenting, "Have you finally decided upon a name for your little boy, Seven?"

 

Seven smiled at her baby. "We will name him Andrew Hansen Kim. If that is satisfactory to you, Harry?"

 

Harry was more than a little surprised. They'd never decided upon a name, had they? Did he tell her Andrew was one of the treasured family names of the Kim's? He'd mentioned it to someone, he knew, but he wasn't sure if it was Seven. At last he said, "Andrew sounds great, Seven. Are you sure you don't want his last name to be Hansen? You could always call him Andrew Kim Hansen. That's a very nice name, too."

 

Seven replied, "I believe it is customary for members of a family to have the same last name." She looked up into Harry's face and saw how stunned he was. Smiling slightly, she added, "Would you like to hold your son now?"

 

As Harry cuddled his newborn son, he had no words for several minutes. He knew he wanted to be the father of Seven's baby, but he'd never realized just how wonderful he would feel when he finally was able to hold his little boy.

 

=/\=

 

Across the room, B'Elanna and Tom hadn't been paying much attention to the drama by the maturation chamber. While Tom had been ready to jump up and help with the delivery out of the maturation chamber if necessary, he relaxed once he saw that the Doctor, the parents, and big brother had everything under control.

 

When Seven mentioned the custom of using the same last name in a family, B'Elanna and Tom noticed. While Harry was crooning wordlessly to his son, he didn't seem to catch the import of what Seven had just said. B'Elanna and Tom did. Tom bent his head toward the other side of Sickbay, and B'Elanna, a small smile on her face, nodded assent. Tom picked Miral up from where she was lying next to B'Elanna and walked with her to the group by the maturation chamber. "It looks like the names of our babies will be very similar, Harry. Miral Torres Paris, meet Andrew Hansen Kim."

 

"She's beautiful, too," Harry said, taking a quick glance at little Miral before gazing rapturously at his son again.

 

Tom shook his head, bemused. He couldn't blame Harry for being so absorbed in the miracle of holding his very own offspring. He knew just how that felt. Cuddling his own daughter more closely, Tom slowly walked back to the biobed where B'Elanna was resting and placed his daughter back into her mother's arms.

 

After Tom walked away, Harry looked up at Icheb, who was lingering in the vicinity but was not really a part of the group. "I'm sorry, Icheb. I'm monopolizing little Andrew. Would you like a turn holding your baby brother?"

 

"Yes, please," Icheb answered. Somewhat awkwardly, Harry passed the baby over to Icheb. Thanks to his days working in a child care center on Quarra, Icheb had no trouble at all holding the new baby, but that was not the same thing as being unaffected by the presence of this new human being. Even though he'd spent countless hours around the maturation chamber gazing at his soon-to-be brother, having him actually here and in his arms was a totally different experience. When Icheb stuck a finger within Andrew's reach, the baby grabbed it and held on so tightly, Icheb was speechless for few minutes. Finally he was able to say, "He's so beautiful." After giving Andrew a gentle hug and handing him back to Seven, Icheb inquired, "When I am adopted, should I choose to be called Icheb Hansen Kim, too, Seven?"

 

Harry did a double take. "What did you say? You want to take my name, Icheb?"

 

"Seven just said it is customary for members of a family to have the same last name. I have noted in my studies that while it is optional to do so, a majority of families on Earth continue to follow that convention."

 

"Yes, under the circumstances, I think that would be a wise choice, Icheb."

 

Harry stared wordlessly at Seven. Taking pity on the father of her child, Seven noted, "You are usually much better at translating what I say, Harry Kim. You see, I have been reconsidering some opinions I recently expressed about certain social conventions. Now that we have arrived in the Alpha Quadrant, I am willing to reconsider the nature of our affiliation. If you decide to ask me to change our marital status again, I believe I will give you a different answer from the ones I have previously given you. Marriage may not be so irrelevant after all."

 

Harry began to laugh delightedly. Bending down, he planted a gentle kiss on Andrew's forehead and a bigger one on Seven's lips. Turning to Icheb, Harry gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. "What a day! We beat the Borg; we finally get home to the Alpha Quadrant; and I gain two sons, all at once! Call the captain, Doc. I want to get married right now, before Annika has a chance to change her mind again!"

 

As the Doctor, Tom and B'Elanna all congratulated Harry, Seven and Icheb had a moment alone with the baby. Bending down, Icheb whispered in Seven's ear, "Are you happy now? Will Andrew replace Mezoti?"

 

Seven gazed deeply into Icheb's eyes. "Nothing will ever replace Mezoti, Icheb. I will always miss the daughter I should have had. I am happy I have Andrew, and I am happy I have you. I will always cherish One as well, even though he is no longer alive. But no one can ever 'replace' Mezoti. I will always care for her just as I care for all my boys."

 

Icheb bent down and kissed Seven next to her artificial eye. Seven raised her hand and brushed the implant along Icheb's nose. They would always share a unique heritage with each other. Now, as individuals, they could fully embrace their history, as well as the love which they would share with everyone in their family; but neither would ever forget the bonds forged by once being Borg.

 

=/\=

 

An hour later, in Sickbay, after confirming that the couple did not wish to wait to invite anyone else to witness their vows, Captain Kathryn Janeway married Ensign Annika Hansen to Lieutenant j.g. Harry Kim, in the presence of their sons Icheb and Andrew Hansen Kim, who served as attendants. Their good friends, Lieutenants Thomas Paris and B'Elanna Torres, _Voyager's_ EMH (who still only answered to the name of The Doctor), and Commander Chakotay acted as witnesses. Miral Torres Paris slept throughout the proceedings.

 

Captain Janeway hoped Harry's parents would forgive her for performing the wedding ceremony in their absence. All things considered, however, the captain thought that, given Seven's tendency to either dig in her heels or act impulsively, Harry was wise to strike while the proverbial iron was hot.

 

=/\=

 

The bridge was buzzing with activity, but with the Starfleet flotilla accompanying the ship towards Spacedock, Kathryn finally felt it was safe to escape to her ready room to regroup. When she arrived, however, she almost turned back to the bridge. Her terminal was blinking continuously as message after congratulatory message was received from a multitude of well-wishers who had learned of _Voyager's_ return. It was overwhelming. There was one she did take the time to read, though. It brought tears to her eyes.

 

Her ready room door chimed. She sighed deeply. Her respite from the happy chaos of homecoming had lasted for barely two minutes, but she called out, "Enter."

 

"Caught your breath yet, Captain?" Chakotay asked as he strolled in and sat down in his customary seat in front of her desk.

 

"Not really. Maybe not for a long time. Don't you have a fistful of PADDs to review with me?"

 

"I just got back from bringing Admiral Paris to Sickbay to meet his granddaughter. He shook the hand of every member of the crew he passed. He even gave a hug to the Doctor for delivering 'our wonderful little baby girl.' He wants to see you, too, but I think it's going to be a while before the Doctor is able to separate him from his family."

 

She chuckled. "I'll pry him out if he doesn't come up soon. We've got lots to discuss, but I can't fault him for doting on Miral. That's what grandparents do, you know. I hope he doesn't ignore his own son in all the excitement."

 

"You don't have to worry about that. He went to Tom first and hugged him so tightly, I thought I might have to save our pilot from being strangled." Chakotay hesitated and looked down at his hands. "It made me think how my father might have greeted me, if he were still alive."

 

"Oh, Chakotay, I'm sorry. I didn't even think of that."

 

"It's all right, Kathryn. I'm sure he's here in spirit." Brightening visibly, he added, "By the way, the admiral said he personally notified your mother of our return before he left his ship."

 

"I know. She already sent me a message. A short one." Would it be wrong to share it with him, knowing how he was already feeling? He was leaning forward expectantly, however, so she recalled the message and swiveled her monitor around to allow him to read it.

 

_"Praise be! Love you, dear.---Mom"_

 

"You'll be hearing from your sister soon, I'm sure, Chakotay."

 

"Until then, I'll remember your mother's words to you. That's what most of our families will be saying."

 

"I'm sure. So how is Ensign Lang-Larsson holding up under the barrage?"

 

"She says the first ones were from Starfleet people, but now a lot more are coming through from family members. Some of them heard about us through official channels, but Lang told me so many are coming in now, 'the word-of-mouth network must be working overtime.' I asked Ensign Jenkins to give her some help. I don't think Pablo Baytart needs much in the way of back up at the helm right now."

 

"Good idea." Kathryn sighed deeply. "I keep pinching myself, thinking I'm going to be waking up from this lovely dream and find out we're still out there traveling in parts unknown."

 

"If you're dreaming, then so is everybody else on this ship."

 

"I guess. Did Lieutenant Carey give you a damage report yet from our unorthodox exit from an exploding Borg sphere?"

 

"He's working on the details now, but all and all, we came through it just fine. Good thing, or B'Elanna might insist on jumping out of bed to work on repairs unless the Doctor sedates her. The only reason we're proceeding slowly is because our escort wants it that way. We could be home in next to no time if they'd let us."

 

"Maybe it's just as well. There are so many uncertainties. Let's enjoy what time we have left together as one crew."

 

Chakotay nodded his head in agreement. He was one who faced an uncertain future, as all of the Maquis did. At least, that's what she thought he must be thinking about as he sat there, since his eyes had lost focus. When he did speak, however, he surprised her.

 

"Kathryn, there's something I wanted to ask you, and I'm not sure I'll get the chance once we get to Spacedock, with all that's going on. Would you be willing to share anything Admiral Janeway told you about our future? Anything it would be 'safe' to share without the Temporal Police breathing down our necks?"

 

Safe to share? What could she possibly say? They're home, seventeen years before Admiral Janeway's version of _Voyager_ arrived. While there's no way she can be sure, it's doubtful Seven will be killed in the next three years, or that Harry would lose Icheb and Andrew afterwards. It's not likely any of that family will be on _Voyager_ by then. Hopefully not, because she didn't want to visit Chakotay's empty grave the way the admiral did before leaving on her suicide mission. Chakotay's life might be longer and happier than the one the admiral's first officer had lived. Tuvok should be home in time to be cured of the condition he'd been keeping secret from her. Carey, Tal, Harren were all back in the Alpha Quadrant. They never made it in the admiral's timeline.

 

Admiral Janeway had declined to name the rest of the casualties. Frankly, that was just fine with Captain Janeway. She didn't want to know which other lives had been spared because of their earlier return home. There was one additional casualty, of course: the admiral herself. It seemed her plan had worked. The neurolytic pathogen must have been delivered into Unimatrix Zero-One, perhaps even to the Queen herself, judging from all the exploding ships which _Voyager_ had never had a chance to fire upon. Would this end the Borg threat forever? Or was Kathryn Janeway still fated to live a life as the expert in fighting the Borg? Her mind buzzed with the possibilities of this new, changed timeline.

 

There was only one thing she could say for sure. She almost whispered it. "Nothing is going to be the same now, Chakotay. That future has already been changed -- irrevocably.  I know that. Anything I did tell you would be sheer fantasy at this point. Painful and needlessly worrying to some people, too. There's no point in my saying anything more."

 

He shook his head slowly, apparently finding what she said reasonable, even if his curiosity would never be assuaged. An odd light came into his eye and he asked, "One thing you can confirm, I think. Admiral Janeway never married, did she?"

 

"No, I suspect I can tell you that without incurring the wrath of the Federation Temporal Police. She never married or had a family."

 

"What about my Captain Janeway? Is she interested in 'changing the nature of her affiliation' with anyone?" His smile was even slyer than usual; the sparkle of his brown eyes brighter.

 

Kathryn hesitated before giving her answer. The future truly would be different now. If all went well with the Maquis, and the _Equinox_ crew (and she realized she never even asked Admiral Janeway how Marla and Noah and the others had been dealt with in her reality), her job getting her crew home, whole and safely, would finally be realized. In fact, six people no one had even known existed, including four who weren't even born yet when _Voyager_ and _Val Jean_ confronted the Caretaker, have come home to the Alpha Quadrant. And that's not counting the five who were rescued from _Equinox_.

 

"Kathryn?" Chakotay brought her attention back to him, and to his question. What did he mean by it? Was he suggesting something she had been unable to even think about as long as they were traveling though the Delta Quadrant, with him as her first officer,  under her direct command?

 

"I don't know, Chakotay," she said, somewhat flippantly. "I don't think I'm going to be eligible for that Maternity Ward of the Doctor's. I'm too old now."

 

"Are you really? I wouldn't think so. I've heard of women much older than you becoming mothers nowadays. And I understand there's a perfectly good maturation chamber down in Sickbay without a current occupant. There are options."

 

"You're laughing at me now, Chakotay!"

 

"Laughing with you, perhaps. Never at you, Kathryn. Never that."

 

His smile was still merry, but his eyes told her of a much different emotion. The tone of his voice had deepened too. Sincerity had always been an intrinsic aspect of this man's personality. She could not escape the meaning beneath those words. So much had happened on their journey home. So many things left unsaid, or perhaps said in ways beyond words. Yes, that's what she'd always known. It's why she had felt that stab of fear and loneliness when Admiral Janeway described her own future, so bereft of love and companionship.

 

"I understand, Chakotay. You've always been with me, whether it was laughing with me or fighting with me when I needed someone to confront me about my failings."

 

Chakotay reached out to his captain and took her hand in his. "Did I do all that? I'm not sure I can remember any of that now."

 

"Thank you for that, Chakotay. You know very well you did it all. We're not quite done yet, though. We need to start planning our next fight. For the Maquis, for Tom, and especially for the _Equinox_ people. And when that's over, maybe I can stop and think about what's next for me."

 

"I'm ready, willing, and able to help you any way I can, Kathryn."

 

He didn't look all that much like an Angry Warrior now, but she knew, if necessary, he'd always guard her back. Right now, the Mama and Papa Bear of _Voyager_ were ready to take on the Alpha Quadrant.

 

As Tom would later say, "Not a fair fight at all. The Delta Quadrant couldn't beat us. The Alpha Quadrant doesn't stand a chance."

 

=/\=


	7. Coda (Several Years After)

=/\=

 

"How soon will it be before we can see her?"

 

"Patience, Andrew," his mother admonished.

 

From her station in Astrometrics, Second Officer Commander Annika Kim evaluated their progress. "I project that we will hail the officials on the planet within four minutes," she finally told her son.

 

When her answer did not stop him from fidgeting, she stated severely, "You've seen her during our visual communication contacts as we approached this planet. You can wait a few more minutes to meet her in person."

 

"I know, Mom. I've been waiting so long, though. I really want to _be_ with her, you know what I mean?"

 

She who once was known by everyone as Seven of Nine, Tertiary Annex of Unimatrix One of the Borg, understood all too well. It had been even longer for her.

 

=/\=

 

The home was situated in a pastoral setting on the outskirts of Santiava, the capital city of Wysant. The group transporting down from the _Delta Explorer_ had seen images of it, sent by one of the individuals who was approaching them. Most of the individuals were walking. One of them, an adolescent girl, was quite literally running to meet them.

 

"Seven! Icheb!" she called out, throwing herself into Annika's arms before turning to Icheb to give him an embrace just as close. "Harry! You're a captain now! How wonderful!" She hugged him, before turning to the fourth member of the group. "And Andrew. I'm so happy to meet you at last."

 

"Me too. I've heard so much about you, Mezoti." Andrew opened his arms, and she gave him a hug, too.

 

Mazani, Arebi, and their grandsons Rebi and Azan stood a way off. Harry greeted them, saying, "I know the Wysanti don't like to say good-bye. How are they with hello?"

 

"Thanks to Mezoti, we have become quite used to greetings of many types, Captain Kim."

 

"I'm glad of that. You see, we were in the neighborhood, and someone once told us to visit if we ever were," Harry replied with a smile.

 

"Mezoti has mentioned she said that to you. Many times. Please, enter our home. Let us share our hospitality with you."

 

Mazani's voice quavered a little. She suspected she knew the real purpose for this visit. It was going to be very difficult by the end, she was quite certain of that.

 

=/\=

 

". . . and then we were back in the Alpha Quadrant. The armada facing us was getting ready to fire, until they realized the Borg sphere was exploding and it was _Voyager_ flying toward them. And that was the day Andrew was born. What a day that was!"

 

"Miral Paris and I both were born on _'Voyager_ Return Day," Andrew said proudly. "We get to have fireworks on our birthday every year, right Dad?"

 

"I wouldn't mind seeing that," Rebi said, glancing at his brother, who nodded agreement.

 

"I would like to see it, too," Mezoti said softly. The expression on her face was very different from the twins'. It was filled with a longing that gave Annika a pang of regret. History had been changed in one way, with the actions of the Admiral Janeway of another timeline. Some parts of this timeline's past never would be recaptured, but a new path could be forged. Would Mazani and Arebi be willing to allow it to happen?

 

The conversation at the table had moved on while Annika's thoughts were fixated upon events of the past. When her attention returned to the current subject, Arebi was discussing how Mezoti had been instrumental in assisting the Borg survivors obtain the medical care they desperately needed after the Borg Queen's destruction. "When they came here for help, Mezoti was the one who understood the Borg alphanumeric system well enough to translate what they were asking our leaders to do for them. She is considered a hero among former Borg -- and we do, too."

 

Mezoti smiled but only said, "I could help, so I did. Anyone could have done what I did."

 

"Some of them could have, but didn't," Arebi said, looking over at his grandsons. Both managed to look embarrassed. In those days, their favorite sporting teams had been of more importance than anything else, even school. Now both were in advanced study programs, the equivalent of attending a university in the Federation. Annika approved of both of them. They had done well. The boys had been far more talkative, almost sociable, throughout the day. When they lived on _Voyager_ , the boys had tended to stay aloof and ignored others most of the time. Living with their grandparents appeared to have been very good for them.

 

The conversation wandered among many other topics after that, but it was not until after the meal was finished that the subject on everyone's minds was finally voiced. The youngest person at the table brought it up. "Mezoti, can you come live with us? Or will you stay here with Mazani and Arebi?"

 

An awkward silence fell. Annika did not know what to say to break that silence. It had been many years since her experience as a Borg would allow her to blurt out whatever she thought, without any regard for the feelings of those around her. She could not help noticing, however, that Mezoti's eyes were fastened on hers, pleading eloquently for Annika to say the words Mezoti wanted her to say. Or was that truly what that look meant? Was it only Annika's own guilt that wanted to undo, in a very small way, the mistake she'd made all those years ago, when she didn't fight harder to prevent Mezoti from trading her life on _Voyager_ for residence on this planet?

 

Mazani finally broke the spell. "Mezoti, the decision is yours, just as it was all those years ago when you came here. We are so grateful you chose to live with us. You helped so many people because you were here when they needed someone to help them. Arebi and I have never, ever regretted extending to you the invitation to join Azan and Rebi and live as part of our family. However, we all know you have regretted that decision many times since then. Perhaps you have wished you had chosen differently every single day you have been with us."

 

"Not every day," Mezoti said. And then everyone knew what Mezoti would choose to do this time.

 

=/\=

 

The Wysanti cultural database identifies one peculiarity common to the people of that world which is quite unique in comparison to almost all others. While the Wysanti extend a greeting to people when they meet them, they do not believe in saying goodbye. A leave-taking is shown by a nod of the head or, at most, a wave of the hand.

 

When Mezoti left the Wysanti world to board the _Delta Explorer_ to begin her new life as a member of the Hansen-Kim family, Mazani, Arebi, and their grandsons chose to say goodbye the human way: with hugs, tears, and the extraction of a promise from Mezoti.  "Please visit us if you're ever back in the neighborhood."

 

=/\=

 

End

 

=/\=

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks are due to Tracy Sobes and pjinnh, who discussed this plotline with me and helped me formulate it years ago, during the seventh season the show aired on UPN. Also thanks to Marly McLean, who did such a nice job portraying Mezoti. I missed her once she was gone. And yes, in the "Quid Pro Quo"/"Satisfaction" universe, Joe Carey is alive and well when Voyager returns home. That's what AU's are for, no?
> 
> All the usual disclaimers apply. Just an exercise in What Might Have Been. No claims of ownership because Paramount owns Star Trek lock, stock, and transphasic torpedo barrels. Et cetera, et cetera.
> 
> This story is the fifth published story in the AU that began with "Quid Pro Quo" and continued with "Satisfaction," "Weekend in Tahiti, or Tom and B'Elanna and Harry and Seven's Excellent Vacation," and "Fun and Games." While the second, third, and fourth stories in the series are sex farces with some character development (and in the case of "Fun and Games," lots of farce and not much in the way of character development), "Maternity" is a much more serious piece, closer in tone to "Quid Pro Quo," a Tuvok in pon farr story. If there is another story, it will take place before "Maternity," but will be more humorous. When the first two stories were written, Seven and Harry's relationship seemed possible. That was before Harry's character was changed radically in the final seasons of the show.
> 
> I knew when I wrote my initial notes about the concept that I would set it in the seventh and last season of Star Trek: Voyager, but I hadn't seen the final episodes at the time. I had no idea that Chakotay and Seven would become linked the way they were by "Endgame." Since this has been an AU ever since Tuvok had his pon farr in the fourth season instead of the seventh, that really wasn't all that much of a problem for me. I never got around to writing up the story from my notes, however. As a result, this final episode of the K/7 AU has been in limbo for at least 15 years. 
> 
> In 2016 and early 2017 I caught the fanfic writing bug again. I finished up another story I'd long planned but didn't start until 2013, comprised of Tom Paris' personal log entries throughout the seven years of Voyager's journey home and a little over a year afterwards, tying up various story lines. "Chief Helmsman's Log: the Personal Logs of Thomas E. Paris" was followed up by a companion piece, "I, Mezoti," in which our dearly missed Norcadi-born Borg records her feelings as she arrives on Voyager and eventually chooses to leave the ship with Azan and Rebi. Those stories are not true AUs. Although I incorporated several of my other fanfic stories within the history that was established in the series, I found none of these particular efforts of mine directly conflicted with the show as aired. (The books that came after the return home, as well as most of Pathways and Mosaic by Jeri Taylor, are not canon to me. I used what I wanted from them but ignored the rest.) This spring I wrote a sequel to my old DS9/STV crossover story "Pilgrimage" after a reader said I should show what happened to T'Pel after Tuvok came home to the Alpha Quadrant. "The Prodigal" was the result. All of these tales have influenced what I wrote in "Maternity." I was surprised I found it necessary to include so much of the seventh season in the story, especially "Endgame," but I did. So it's here.
> 
> Believe it or not, it wasn't until the week before Mother's Day that I realized motherhood was really the theme of "Maternity." Considering the title, I confess to being supremely dense by not recognizing that a lot sooner. Since family is a very common theme in stories about Star Trek in general and Voyager in particular, I should have been more perceptive. Very embarrassing.
> 
> This story is dedicated to all the mothers and fathers out there, the biological and adoptive ones -- yes, even the ones who, like Captain Janeway, "mother" others by mentoring them when they need it. An additional dedication is to those who have struggled with pregnancy, because I know, I've been there. My second pregnancy ended in the 20th week, and no one could tell me why. Until my third ended successfully, with my very own Andrew nestled in my arms, I worried all the time that Something Bad was about to happen. Now he and his wife have their own little boy, and I'm a happy grandmom as well as a mom. 
> 
> Finally, I have to dedicate all my writing to my own parents, especially my brave, kind, gentle mother, who raised her three children with an abundance of love after losing my father much too early in life. I wish you were still here this Mother's Day and every day, Mom; but when I stop and listen, I still can hear your voice in my head. Love you always.
> 
> Jamelia  
> May 14, 2017


End file.
